Lovehammer: Crack Edition
by Lovehammer Inc
Summary: And you thought some of the other drabbles where silly? Oh, you poor dears, please prepare to laugh yourselves silly, or suffer crack induced brain failure, either will fill us with glee. Every author free-for-all. Some connected, some standalone. Heh.
1. Unreasoning Standards

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"He is not suitable," Dorn stated, folding his arms as he looked down on the young man accompanying his sister.

While not exactly the right person to judge that, he supposed the man was handsome. Still, that certainly was not enough to consider him a proper candidate to court Serenity. As far as the Primarch of the Imperial Fists could tell the young man was certainly not brave enough. Surely, one could expect him not to cower when facing merely two brothers of the woman he claimed to love. The fact that Primarchs were intimidating by nature, to put it euphemistically, seemed to have slipped his mind.

"Absolutely," Perturabo stated, frowning. "You're just after the privileges and position, aren't you?"

It was perhaps going too far, but Dorn was prepared to make allowances for Perturabo's paranoia given the situation. They had to protect their sister.

Serenity appeared to be quite dumbstruck, though given the circumstances, it was perhaps understandable. Rogal Dorn and Perturabo usually started quarreling as soon as they exchanged two sentences. However, right now, they were agreeing and were showing no signs of hostility.

"N-no!" the young man managed to squeak out. "I-I…"

Unfortunately, the combined force of Dorn's and Perturabo's glares was too much for him to stomach and he fell silent. The only thing that prevented him from losing face completely was the fact that he managed not to hide behind Serenity. The Princess glared back at her two brothers, quite unimpressed with their behaviour.

"This is not funny," she stated, placing her hands on her hips. "Could you try agreeing on something else?"

"We do agree on other things," Perturabo snapped back.

"Like what? Give me one example!" Serenity was not backing down.

Dorn and his brother looked at each other, trying to remember an instance when they had reached some sort of agreement. It proved more daunting a task than they had expected.

"Don't try to change the topic!" Dorn growled, noticing that Serenity had reached out to take the young man's hand.

Before the Princess had the time to reply, there was a thump and her newest suitor fell to the floor, unconscious. A rather long, awkward silence followed as she and the two Primarchs regarded the young man's prone form with matching embarrassed expression.

"Is this some sort of a tradition?" Serenity moaned. "They always faint."

{oOo}


	2. The Best Shovel

Author: Finbar

{oOo}

Dorn looked at Perturabo, who looked back at him, as they both pondered.

"Vulkan?"

"Definitely. He really is the only choice."

"Well, Ferrus could do it..."

"But Vulkan would be the best choice. I will send a message to him asking him to get to work straight away."

"Very well, I will also send one through other channels in case your message is not received."

"As much as I disagree with the need, I will agree. Only he can build a suitable Shovel. It is best that we send redundant messages, possibly a courier as well."

"Yes, to protect our Sister, we will need a Shovel that Father would be proud to wield."

{oOo}


	3. Meeting the Family

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Chiba Mamoru had been through a lot, starting with living through a car accident as a little boy to being killed a few times. He did not consider meeting the family of his beloved could prove any more daunting then facing a horror of cosmic proportions that was bent on the destruction of life in the whole galaxy.

Therefore he was far from panicking, when Serenity stated it was high time that he was introduced to her father and brothers. Finding out that her brothers were genetically engineered generals and her father some sort of an atheistic deity was a bit more intimidating, but Mamoru reminded himself that he had to face an energy-stealing abomination shortly after raising from the dead for the first time. That put the situation back in the right perspective.

"Father, Brothers," Serenity said in her most formal voice, "this is Mamoru."

The young man looked up, and then looked up more. Serenity had apparently forgotten to mention to mention her brother's were huge. Also, if Mamoru guessed right, than not only was her father wearing golden armor, he was glowing too.

Still, none of them was showing the signs of wanting to destroy the universe, so Mamoru ignored the minor inconveniences, like the fact that the tanned bald one with dark eyes was glaring daggers at him.

"You keep having to save him," said the pale one with long lank black hair.

"It only happened three times," Serenity replied, sounding rather impatient. "You went and did a background check on him behind my back again, didn't you Konrad?"

Konrad had the good grace to look embarrassed, but didn't back down easily. "He was mind-controlled all three times," he pointed out.

"Actually, the third time I was dead," Mamoru corrected. "So, technically, it was just my body and not me."

He wasn't sure if divulging such a thing was the smartest idea, but he'd rather they didn't think he always ended up brainwashed. Still, the fact that Serenity's glowing father raised an eyebrow at his statement did not fill him with much hope. It did not occur to him at once, but he slowly realized that all eighteen of Serenity's brothers were watching him intently.

Then the white-haired one in gold armor said: "He didn't faint."

Mamoru wondered why he felt as if he had been praised.

{oOo}

Mamoru Chiba: 1, Primarchs: 0


	4. Horus' Nightmare

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

At first Horus was relaxed as he wandered through the city, watching the happy people. They seemed to be celebrating something. Whatever it was, had to be epic, because from what he could see, the entire world was full of joyous celebration.

Horus followed the festively clothed children and their families to... a great cathedral.

Making his way inside, he saw, an entire set of gigantic pews being occupied by many of the Primarchs, who did not look happy. Curze was frowning, Mortarion's face stoic. Angron was systematically tearing a piece of scroll to pieces. Vulkan was holding a pair of rings. Perturabo was looking critically at the cathedral and frowning at the airy construction, the wide glass windows. Of all the superhuman beings here, only the God Emperor was proudly beaming at Lorgar, who was uncomfortably reading from a large book of scripture at the altar. He did not look comfortable, but smiled back hopefully as one of Fulgrim's men played the gigantic organ, beginning a… wedding march?

Serenity, smiling radiantly, made her way down the aisle.

The rest of the dream? Vision…? Spiraled down into nightmare as Horus finally got a good look at the groom.

It was that chaos-cursed pervert, Mamoru! The primarch felt his blood rising to a boil and his vision swam before his eyes as Lorgar began the vows.

"Do you, Mamoru, also known as Endymion, swear to take Serenity as your lawfully wedded spouse..."

Horus's vision turned red with rage. "Don't even think..."

"I do." Mamoru said with the smarmiest smile Horus had ever had the bad luck to see in his entire, very long life.

AGH.

"Do you, Serenity, take this man as your spouse, in sickness and health, in wealth or poverty, until death do you part?"

As Serenity said "I do," Horus was already making his very angry, very fast way over to Lorgar to punch him in the face before this disaster became complete.

Unfortunately, it was a long way to the altar and felt even longer as Horus RAN as fast as he could.

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace." Lorgar read from the text reluctantly.

"I OBJEEEEEECT!" Horus screamed... And woke in a cold sweat, still screaming.

"It was just a dream." the Primarch said, dazed, as he tried to calm himself.

{oOo}

The next morning, Horus watched in mounting horror as Mamoru asked the Emperor for his permission to court Serenity, and the emperor... said yes.

Actually, he said "IF SERENITY WISHES TO ACCEPT YOUR COURTSHIP, UNLESS SOME FAULT MAY BE FOUND WITH IT, I CAN HARDLY SAY NO."

Of course what Horus heard was 'Yes'.

{oOo}

A day later, Horus initiated the Heresy.

Barely three weeks later, he took over Terra and attempted to murder his father.

{oOo}


	5. In the Far Distant Future

Full Title: In the Far Distant Future, There is Only Pink

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

On the scale of completely unexpected occurrences little pink-haired girls falling on the conference table ranked pretty high, which was the only explanation for what followed. The child pulled a gun at Serenity and demanded she hand over the Silver Crystal, and nobody had moved. Then another little girl fell on the table, distracting the first one.

"You look like me!" she cried, waving the gun in the air.

Konrad Curze's eyes trailed the weapon, as his brain was trying to tell him something about it. He had a nagging feeling there was something off about it, but he just couldn't place it. Obviously, the amount of pink was obstructing his thought process.

"No, you look like me!" the second little girl replied.

Indeed, they were very similar. Konrad thought they both looked a lot like Serenity, which was odd. He wasn't sure what worried him about the whole situation, because A. the pinkness and B. the gun issue still prevailed.

"Well, you haven't got Luna-P!" the first little girl declared as if it was some kind of a win-all-disputes argument.

"It's just a ball, dummy!"

Something finally clicked in Konrad's brain and he pointed a somewhat shaky finger at the first little girl. "It's not a real gun."

Both little girls instantly stopped arguing and, along with the other participants of the conference, stared at the Primarch of the Night Lords. Then the gazes turned to the little girls, who were starting to look quite embarrassed.

"I-I had to check if I was in the right time!" the one with the gun replied, in a tearful voice.

The Emperor started looking at Magnus thoughtfully and since the red-haired primarch started fidgeting, he clearly was communicating mentally with him. The first little girl sniffled. Horus seemed to have gathered some of his wits and pieced together a question.

"Where are your parents?" he demanded.

Unfortunately, that made the first little girl start crying. Predictably, Serenity rose, ready to comfort the child, but the little girl was too far for her reach. It was, to the surprise of all gathered, Mortarion who picked the child up and glared at Horus.

A moment later, the girl looked up at him and said: "You're still not very cuddly, Uncle."

{oOo}


	6. Fanfiction Strikes

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"They write poems about us?" Uranus asked her voice rising in disbelief.

"Yes," Fulgrim replied, nodding. "Some of them are quite good."

She gave him a suspicious look, noticing the word "some". It held… implications. While Uranus was about as ashamed of her love for Neptune as Fulgrim was of helping out with clothes, there were certain matters that were most certainly not the business of anybody else but her and Neptune.

"Some?" she repeated, folding her arms over her chest.

"Some," Fulgrim said. "The others… I wasn't even aware that a woman could have such a poor grasp on the anatomy of her own gender."

He winced, albeit in a somewhat theatrical manner and Uranus wondered if he was attempting to cheer her up. But then he wouldn't be hinting on the nature of some of those poems. The only logical conclusion was that he was simply trying to lessen the blow.

"If it helps," Fulgrim added. "I am told adolescents tend to write indecent stories about… well, anybody popular and attractive."

"Some of it is getting published, though," Uranus said, her frown not lessening.

Fulgrim spread his hands in a gesture that indicated he did not know what to do. "Outlawing it doesn't sound like a good idea. We're all public figures; such things will happen from time to time. It's best we ignore them."

"Oh?" Ferrus Manus, who up until now had been inspecting Fulgrim's gauntlets, chimed in. "I distinctly remember somebody calling for blood after reading one such story."

Fulgrim flushed and glared at his brother. "I had every right to! The whole story was set up to make look like some pathetic idiot, who starts to cry when somebody as much as growls at him!"

"So, when are we presenting the draft of the law to Father?" Ferrus asked.

{oOo}


	7. Perilous Mission

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

The crowds looked at them in a mix of awe and fear. Not an unsurprising reaction to a squad of Astartes. After all, they were usually seen on the battlefield, not in the main concourse of Yarbarra Hives largest shopping mall. Despite it being the first day of the Winterfestival Sales, which meant that every one of the mall's thirty floors and forty thousand stores was packed solid, the Astartes were given a respectful berth of at least a full metre at all times.

It was inevitable, however, that someone would start asking questions. In this case it was a small boy, clutching a toy Leman Russ to his chest.

"Are you really Astartes?"

"Yes."

"Are you Space Wolves?"

There was a palpable grimace from the Space Marine who had to peer down over his breastplate to even see the boy. "No. We are not from the Sixth Legion."

The boy thought about this. "Iron Hands?"

"...no. We are Iron Warriors, the legion of Perturabo!"

There was a look of perplexed disappointment on the boy's face. "Is that really a Legion?"

Through gritted teeth: "Yes."

"Because I've never heard of him." The boy held up his toy. "This is the Wolf King." He pulled on a string and, just barely audible over the sounds of frenzied shoppers, a tinny voice demanded that he be provided with mead and raw meat for his wolves.

"He's actually taller than that. And louder."

"Really?" This pleased the child. "Are you here to fight someone?"

"We devoutly hope that it does not come to that."

"Oh. Are there enemies of the Emperor here?"

Hidden behind his helmet, the Iron Warrior's face twitched and he wished he had been allowed to bring his boltgun. "There is an ancient and terrible evil here that we must confront," he warned prudently. "One that has brutalised mankind for thousands of years. We can only hope that some of us survive the experience."

"Wow! I have to tell my mom!" The boy concluded and scampered off. The crowd started to ripple and shift as the information, changed and mutated by the inevitable effects of being passed from one to another in a loud environment took effect.

Five minutes later the floor was all but deserted, with the crowds entirely centered upon the doors as citizens of the Imperium did their level best to avoid the horrors that the Astartes were here to deal with.

There was a sizzling crackle in the air and five slim figures appeared around the teleport homer that the Iron Warriors had been guarding. A pair of gold-armoured Custodes stood behind their leader.

"Hmm, I thought the mall would be busier today," Princess Usagi said in surprise as she looked around. "Oh well. All the more bargains for us!"

The Custodes looked around and one of them faced towards the Iron Warriors sergeant. "Pair off," he ordered. "Two of you with each of them at all times. Just keep quiet, hold the bags and if it gets to much... there's no parking for the Stormbird within a mile so we don't have any back-up."

The sergeant nodded. "I only hope they don't see..."

"Squee! Twenty percent off all swimwear!" One of the girls announced. "Come on girls."

A low whine emerged from the Iron Warrior's vox and the Custodes nodded sadly. "We're doomed," he agreed sadly. "Come on lads. For the Emperor's daughter..."

{oOo}


	8. Perilous Mission Omake

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"Why not Fulgrim?" Perturabo grumbled, glaring acidly at Rogal Dorn.

Dorn, on his part, remained stoic and took a sip of wine before replying. "You do remember what happened last time? The fact that he likes malls does not mean he should be allowed to accompany our sister and her honour guard. Besides, Mercury is your wife. Shouldn't you be happy to help her?"

Perturabo snorted. "By that logic, you're as good a candidate as me. Venus is your cousin, isn't she?"

"And she threatened to record the pillow fort stories if I ever accompanied her on a shopping trip," Dorn replied, not managing to keep some smugness from creeping into his voice.

"What about Russ, then?" Perturabo asked, frowning.

"Lo! Did the hero rise his mighty mop and clean the treacherous floor!" a thunderous roar sounded from the depths of the Imperial Palace.

Dorn shrugged. "As far as I know he promised to do the cleaning himself in return for not having to accompany the Princess."

"Only a spoonful of detergent did he add to the water, no more, no less!"

"Is he enjoying it or is he yelling to make us all suffer with him?" Perturabo asked, looking towards the door.

{oOo}

AN: Response to the previous chapter.


	9. Most Excellent Adventures I

Author: Bloody Mary

Subtitle: Big Brother Does Not Approve, Part 1

{oOo}

On day I shall learn that there is no situation that cannot become worse. While being chased by a squad of Plague Marines appears to be on the far end of screwed, I have just found out there are indeed fates worse than that.

Just as one of the abominations raised its rust-covered bolter and gurgled in a voice that sounded like dripping pus "You're not worthy of her!" the ship shook violently. I have lost my footing and a bolter charge flew scant centimeters over my head.

I had little time to gather my wits when somebody punched through the nearest wall. The fist was worryingly enormous, encased in grey ceramite. It withdrew as I and the traitors watched, enchanted. The second punch caused the wall to collapse, revealing a towering figure in grey and brass armor. By his side stood another, much smaller person.

I looked over my shoulder, but the Holy Anima was behind me, her hand holding her glaive tightly.

As I turned around again, the giant shot at the Plague Marines dispatching them with ease. The smaller figure charged, her glaive gracefully beheading the captain of the Nurglites.

It appeared that I have somehow found myself in the company of two Senshi Saturns and a very big Marine. The Saturn that had accompanied me helped me to my feet and then I met the giant's eyes. His stare was very unnerving, as if he suspected me of some nefarious purpose.

"It appears that we are in an alternate reality," the second Saturn, who appeared older then the Holy Anima next to me, stated.

"Who is this?" the giant asked, still staring at me. "And why is he holding your hand?"

"Brother Mortarion-," were the last words I heard as the darkness claimed me.

{oOo}

Mortarion looked down at the prone man at his feet, before looking at the younger Saturn. She appeared to be very flustered and that was not a good sign.

"He fainted," he said, remembering how most of Princess Serenity's suitors reacted to meeting her brothers. Being a Primarch drawing the appropriate conclusion did not take for him very long. "He's one of them…"

{oOo}

AN: I wonder if you can guess who is narrating this...? :D


	10. Most Excellent Adventures II

Author: Bloody Mary

Subtitle: Big Brother Does Not Approve, Part 2

{oOo}

As I came to, the first thing I saw was the worried face of the Anima. If that wasn't enough of startling and worrying sights, I caught the sight of an armored figure behind her. Very large armored figure in a drab grey cloak. I had hoped that it had all been a dream or at least I somehow misheard and the other Anima had not called him Mortarion. In fact, I had hoped the other Anima wouldn't be present at all. As much as I respected Her Highness two of the same person was usually a bad sign.

But there she was, inspecting the Primarch's cape a small frown creasing her alabaster brow.

"There's another hole in it," she stated.

"It happens in firefights," Mortarion replied, in a surprisingly low voice.

I had no time to consider any of it, as the Primarch turned his attention towards me and hauled me to my feet without any warning or visible effort. I did not have a good feeling about this. My palms were starting to itch already, which suggested I was in trouble.

"I've just heard that I… my alternative version here is one of those plague-things," he stated watching me through narrowed eyes. "Not to mention several other things that do not please me. At all. You will keep all your body parts away from my sister-"

The older Senshi Saturn nudged him with the blunt end of her weapon, making it go clang!

"Unless she is in mortal danger and it's the only way to save her-"

Clang!

"I did not agree to the last part."

I could not help but notice that the tearful pleading stare that my version of Senshi Saturn sometimes employed sometimes had not lost its force. I was both somewhat unnerved and relieved as I noticed seemed to have the same effect on Primarch Mortarion as in had on most normal people.

"We don't know anything about her," he protested and turned away from me to my relief. "And we haven't got the time to talk about all of this."

Somehow, I was certain this topic would come up again. My palms were still itching.

{oOo}


	11. Mortarion's Very Bad Day

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

This day had started fairly well, actually. Mortarion had woken up, made his greetings to beloved Papa Nurgle, and gone to gloomily contemplate the picture of his little sister. Poor, innocent Hotaru. She'd never deserved what his foolish father had done to her... Horus was right, if only for that. The corrupted Primarch clenched his fist in rage, simmering it to a fine boil. Better not to waste it. There were Ultramarines to corrupt and slay, after all. Stupid Roboute. If he'd only listened when Mortarion had tried to tell him what was going wrong, Maybe Mortarion would never have had to...

Never mind. The past was the past. The corrupted Primarch gloomily went off to do his duties.

Some time later, he was quite surprised when he heard a few angry minions of Khorne complaining about a recent defeat on Hades VI. The words that caught his attention in particular were "Slip of a girl."... "Obliterated an entire block of the city.."

...It couldn't be, could it? Hope began to seep into him like pus in spite of his attempt to rationalize it away. Cornering one of Khorne's followers later, he began to question him, discovering to his incredulous joy that his sister was awake.

Of course, that was later converted quite quickly into a rage when he was informed his little sister was attacked by a Bloodthirster.

Mortarion was not happy. Khorne would pay for this!

...At least that Commissar fellow had made himself useful by putting himself in between the thing and his sister as often as possible. Maybe he would spare the man? Hotaru might like that...

...What was his name again? ...Cain?

Some time later, after finally getting his internet connection fixed and getting a hold of as much information as he could, the corrupted Primarch sat down to try and relax, feeling sure that the day was going to be absolutely wonderful.

How wrong he was.

As he read more and more of the files, the corrupted Primarch stared in growing disbelief at the information he found. On one hand, this Cain was a hero, a kind and caring commissar to his men, always ready to protect the innocent.

On the other hand...

...He had bedded more females than Mortarion had appendages. And given Mortarion belonged to Nurgle, that was saying a lot.

That pretty much killed any respect the Primarch had for him.

A mounting fury began to boil through Mortarion's veins as he got to the papparazzi-taken pictures of Cain with his sister. The rumors of their ongoing relationship. The many iconic pictures of them together.

One in particular set an incoherent roaring red fury hazing his vision, but regrettably not obscuring the sight Mortarion wished he'd never seen.

His innocent, little sister. In a man's bedroom. While that Cain... was half naked. And the Commissar in question was known to have affairs with many, many women, even as he was in a relationship with his sister. The Primarch was utterly horrified by the picture. He knew the look in her eyes, oh yes he did. He'd seen that look in Azmina's eyes plenty of times.

His innocent little sister... had a crush on a... casanova.

The resulting incoherent rage was passed on, through Papa Nurgle's gifts, to every single Plague marine ever blessed by Mortarion's geneseed or corrupted by one of his plagues.

Three days later, every single plague marine in the galaxy gained the urge to beat Cain into a pulp.

Cain soon found this out after they began targeting him on the battlefield, turning away from their original objective at the sight of him, or the sound of his name.

After eight horrible, mentally traumatizing encounters from which Cain emerged victorious, the Imperial Guard began calling him Nurgle's Archenemy*.

Khorne was not pleased.

*and other derivatives thereof.

{oOo}

AN: A bit of silliness based in Arkado's continuity, also connected to the last two drabbles by Bloody Mary.


	12. Gifts

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Alpharius couldn't strangle a yelp when he felt an arm encircle his shoulders. He hadn't heard anybody sneak up on him and he had super-naturally good hearing. Carefully, he looked to the side to find himself facing a pale face framed by black hair.

"I have a few questions for you, brother," Konrad Curze said, his voice full of false friendliness that sent chills down Alpharius' spine.

{oOo}

Corax carefully riffled through Alpharius' belongings. Normally, he wouldn't even consider such a thing, but Princess Serenity had asked him and Konrad Curze to find out when Alpharius' birthday was.

Corax was not going to fail.

{oOo}

The shopkeeper looked unhealthily pale and was sweating profusely. Robout Guilliman was quite aware that witnessing two Primarchs in an enclosed space was an experience few were willing to go through. Thusly he was quite willing to excuse the man's obvious discomfort and did his best to act in a friendly manner.

The same could not be said about the brother, who was accompanying him.

"What do you mean this can't be used as weapon?" Angron demanded furiously as he pointed at an elegant china teapot.

"We are inquiring as to the possible purchase of a gift that will have sentimental value, but does not necessary possess any practical usage," Roboute chided his brother. "This tea vessel is a fine specimen and I find the pattern to be pleasing without being too feminine for one of use to employ on a daily basis."

"What?" Angron growled, eyeing Roboute with enmity.

"Your brother thinks the teapot would be nice gift for Primarch Alpharius," Captain Kharn said in a resigned voice.

"Well, I think it's a stupid gift!" Angron snapped. "Why can't we buy him a yearly supply of chainsword grease?"

"While the sentiment itself is sound," Roboute replied. "I must emphasize that such grease is commonly available to any member of the Imperial Army."

"So're teapots," Angron snarled.

"Indeed, you are right to draw my attention to this fact," Roboute said. "Perhaps it would be commendable that we identify an object that will be a more suitable gift."

This time Angron merely moaned "Khaaarn" plaintively.

{oOo}


	13. On Faith

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

'And the prophet spake, saying: "Frak this, for my faith is a shield proof against your blandishments".'

- Alem Mahat, The Book of Cain, Chapter IV, Verse XXI

There is a fringe sect on Tallarn that reveres Cain as a prophet of the Emperor and a living conduit for his Divine Will.

This sect came into being after a Tallarn soldier had a religious experience, after seeing Ciaphas Cain battle a Khorne Berserker... and then slay a demon of Slaanesh.

Naturally, you can imagine what an impact there was, when the news came in that Commissar Ciaphas Cain (Hero of the Imperium!) had come through for the Imperium yet again, and spectacularly, besides, by bringing back one of His Divine Daughters.

Alive. and in one piece.

And barely had that furor died down, when the stolen vid pics made their way onto the internet, with snippets of short, blurry pictures... that nevertheless showed, quite clearly, the way the noble Commissar proceeded to try to protect the Anima at every occasion, facing danger fearlessly to keep her out of harm's way.

...And when the final news came in that he'd 'squashed' a Bloodthirster before the Anima finished it off...

Well, that sect suddenly got a huge influx of converts, particularly when the priests from the 597th's news came in, that there were Hymns to be crafted in honor of Ciaphas Cain, loyal Saint of the holy Anima of Saturn.

{oOo}

Faith is a funny thing. Most people don't really notice it, but enough faith can change the Warp just as much as other emotions do, if it's in sufficient concentration. Cain certainly didn't notice, as he was deluged by enemies come to test their mettle against him and was frequently too distracter, or just plain terrified and running on adrenaline to care... but the tide of fate began to turn, little by little, as the faith of so many new converts and in most cases, soldiers under his command, began to have its own effects.

Small ones at first. A weapon comes to light, right when a convert of the sect needs it, a mechanism holding on just a few moments longer than it should have done under the specs of its construction to do just that bit more damage to the enemy in the hands of one of his men.

A moment of clarity when a soldier can take the shot that will save a life.

A few people squeezing their way past mortal danger by a fraction of a second.

{oOo}

AN: Another little piece set in Arkado's part of the Lovehammer 'verse~


	14. Parties

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Azmina looked at the three pale faces and considered her resources. Two of them were sneakier than a very sneaky thing, while the third was capable of breathing pure poison and eating Serenity's cooking. While being sneaky could help, they still lacked certain qualities necessary for what awaited them. Fortunately, she was here and would aid them to the best of her skill.

"Okay guys, you know that Serenity convinced the Emperor to have a ball, right?" she started. "And you all are supposed to show up. Do you know what it means?"

"I have to do something about my hair?" Konrad Curze asked, as he pushed some of the black strands out of his eyes.

Azmina shook her head.

"If that's about clothes, I am not letting Fulgrim help me chose anything," Mortarion stated.

Azmina sighed and shook her head again. As tempting as it was to claim Serenity or her father had ordered Mortarion and Konrad to accept Fulgrim's choices, this was not why she asked them here.

"No, you all need dates," she said before Corax had the opportunity to guess. She promptly had to smother a giggle, since all three had rather silly expressions once what she said sunk in. "You three are going to help me find suitable girls for those of your brothers who are still unattached."

If anything their expressions were even funnier when Azmina finished speaking. Mortarion looked actually completely and utterly confused; Corax on the verge of having a panic attack and Konrad Curze appeared thoughtful.

"And we'll be mature about it," Azmina continued. "And won't ask Sanguinius to go with Horus in drag, just because he likes blondes."

{oOo}


	15. Horus' Very Very Bad Day

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

Horus stared in confusion at the many, many links on this site. He'd caught sight of in on boogle, and had wondered what a fanfic was and why his name, and the names of his brothers, would be on it.

Separated by x'es.

The curious Primarch clicked a link...

...And came eyeball to eyeball with something unholy.

His screams of horror echoed through the halls.

Apparently someone out there had decided to write horribly graphic, base, pornographic stories and rumors about him and his brothers, and post them up. For everyone to read.

Was this why Curze, Corax and Mortarion always tried to avoid people?

It wasn't working. One of the fictions poor, poor Horus had come eyeball to eyeball with had been a three-way between them.

And as for the long, long, incredibly popular list of 'fics' that connected him and his brothers, it was particularly disturbing to see that the most often visited link was the one that 'slashed' him with Sanguinius.

Poor Horus didn't now how he could ever look him in the face ever again. Those words! Those horrid, horrid words!

The traumatized Primarch frantically began writing down commands for his troops to hunt down and exterminate all the writers on this site. He didn't want to go out there... all those filthy perverts were looking at him! He knew they were!

...No, wait. He should recruit Mortarion, Curze and Corax! They were sneaky, and he knew that Corax and Curze were vicious, evil bastards when they got crossed.

But not Sanguinius. Horus winced at the memory of a particular 'scene' and vowed to cut his brother's internet access. It was for his own good.

{oOo}

AN: And here is the start of what we have named 'The Yaoi Heresy'. A terrible _terrible_ time...


	16. Magnus' Very Very Bad Day

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

It was a long and utterly confusing process, an insight into the terrifying mind of people who were more depraved than he would ever be. Magnus was sure of this.

Height was apparently taken into account. And hair. And who rescued whom last time. And who was the more martially skilled of the two. Who was more emotional, who wept more, or showed devotion fervently.

And the descriptions, oh the descriptions... Some of the pornographic scenes weren't anatomically correct, Magnus knew anatomy. These fics seemed to linger lovingly and perversely on sexual fluids, purple prose describing the male equipment and sweat and...

Magnus tried not to hurl, and skipped over a few paragraphs, vainly hunting for any sort of unifying factor.

...On the bright side, since Lorgar was a worse fighter than he and Magnus had 'nobly rescued him from Horus', he'd automatically been classed as the uke. Magnus had narrowly escaped.

Of course that pale shadow of satisfaction only lasted until he found the perverse three-way fic, that painted in very coarse strokes the image that... Horus and he were fighting over Lorgar, and the throttling had happened because Lorgar had declared his... preferences to leave the 'controlling' primarch and elope with Magnus.

Magnus needed a new bile bucket.

{oOo}

AN: Magnus tries to understand the inner workings of a hardcore yaoi fangirl brain, the poor poor man.


	17. Magnus' Very Very Bad Day II

Author: Enthalpy

{oOo}

The very next day, Magnus, trying to rid his mind of the cannot-be-unseen results of his research, awoke and walked out of his chambers. As he walked, he could not help but notice clusters of people, most composed of members of the Sisters of Silence, glancing at him from time to time and blushing.

Confused as he was, as Fulgrim and Sanguinius had always been the ones they'd fawned upon, he ignored them, praying that it would end soon enough. To make it worse, the sound of suppressed giggles seemed to follow him around, and everyone else, even his brothers and sisters seemed to be avoiding him.

In fact, the only one of his siblings whom he'd seen all day was Konrad Curze, who had looked away from him as he'd passed. If Magnus didn't know better, he would have sworn that the Night Lords' leader had looked almost... smug. Yes, that was the word. Smug.

Finally tiring of the odd attention and the giggles, he strode up to the nearest group of Sisters of Silence he could find and discovered them to be clustered around what seemed to be copies of some document. Ignoring the blushes and his growing feeling of dread, he asked for a copy of whatever they were reading.

Quickly glancing through, he found a copy of the work involving Lorgar, Horus, and himself which had inspired his initial nauseating investigation into the mechanics of yaoi. Unable to comprehend the sudden interest, he flipped to the back, only to find himself staring at what appeared to be - horror of horrors! - explicit photographic illustrations for the text, ostensibly to "improve upon the reader experience," complete with accompanying quote and page number.

Suddenly, everything that had transpired that day made terrifying sense, and the look Curze had given him... It was a well known fact Curze routinely documented goings on in the palace, though for unknown reasons, and could be readily found with camera in hand. If there had been photographs attached to that disgusting work...

The ensuing scream of horror and rage could be heard for miles around.

{oOo}


	18. Omake omake

Author(s): Enthalpy & Nico Hana

{oOo}

Omake I: Lorgar's Reaction

Lorgar stared at the unholy manuscript. He would not have this filth marring the cleanness of his god's the Emperor's Imperium! It was HERESY!

Cackling maniacally, he took the foul spawn of Slaanesh to the firing range. Readying his bolter, he shredded the heretical pages and then proceeded to light them on fire with a melta shot, maintaining his high-pitched laughter all the while. After it was over, he felt much better, his conviction in the Emperor restored.

Lorgar always did wonder why most of the palace staff kept their distance from him after that day.

{oOo}

Omake II: Ira's Reaction

Absently brushing the ash of her armour, Ira basked in the glow of a job well done, though, on turning to Magnus and Lorgar said glow dimmed a tad at their wary, if not frightened visages.

"...What?" she straightened defensively, "You know it needed to be done!"

Magnus raised his hands placatingly, "Of course, of course."

Lorgar nodded rigourously, somewhat wild-eyed.

These platitudes however produced a narrow eyed look.

"Magnus..." she said warningly.

He winced.

{oOo}


	19. One Confusing Talk

Author: Enthalpy

{oOo}

Horus strode into the throne room with trepidation in his heart. The Emperor had officially summoned him. The Emperor never summoned anyone except to reprimand them. What had he done wrong? Had he failed in some way? How had he displeased his father.

To his surprise, the Emperor stood from his throne and met him half way. "Now, son," he said. "I know I haven't been the best father I could be. But, let me say now that I will not judge you on your choices. They are yours to make, and yours only..." As his father continued on with his speech, Horus listened in rapt attention, although, internally, he became more and more confused by the moment.

What was his father, the God Emperor of Mankind speaking of, concerning choices and judgment?

"...and, if you find that you wish to pursue this matter further, you may, perhaps, find the works of the ancient playwright Sophocles to be of some interest."

After the Emperor dismissed him, Horus left. Only after he had returned to the relative safety of his chambers did he remember the sheaf of papers which his father had clutched in his hand. The only person who would ever print text in those lurid shades was his sister, Serenity. Come to think of it, he remembered Magnus' scream of horror, and had heard Lorgar's mutterings concerning some sort of unholy abomination.

The next time he met Magnus, he asked him if he knew anything concerning those innocuous papers, only to see the one-eyed Primarch run away as fast as he could. Confused as ever, Horus returned to his duties as Warmaster of the Imperium.

{oOo}


	20. The Horus Heresy: Yaoi Edition

Author: Enthalpy

{oOo}

Horus glared at his sister. "Serenity? How could you betray me like this? You had something to do with this! I know you did!"

Serenity, Princess of the Imperium, looked confused. "What are you talking about?" she asked innocently.

He glared at her again. She ranked it at about a 9 on the 10 point scale of Primarch Angry Faces (TM). "You know perfectly well what I'm referring to!" Horus shouted, brandishing a fistful of papers which fluttered, revealing several flesh-toned images. Serenity noted that the entire stack had a pinkish-red tone when held up to the light.

"What?"

"Your printer is out of red ink," he just about screamed, pointing to one particularly lurid photo. "That's proof of your guilt!" Horus stormed out, reminding himself to throw the pieces of paper which he held into the nearest furnace. Vulkan's would do nicely.

Thus began the Horus Heresy, and the fall to Chaos of the Emperor's favored son.

{oOo}


	21. My Big Crazy Family

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Rogal Dorn had a very good reason to dread family gatherings. He was harboring a secret suspicion that he was the only person there who was not somehow insane. Well, the Emperor obviously was sane too. Even the fact that he created most of the madman could not persuade him otherwise.

The rest… He simply had to watch.

The most obvious were Leman Russ and Magnus the Red, who were having an aggressive drinking contest punctuated by loud invectives. Instead of actually stopping them, Thora was engaged in an arm wrestling contest with one of the Custodes, while Ira was grilling a wild-eyed Lorgar.

That wasn't to say the others were better. His own cousin, Azmina, was doing her best to chatter Alpharius to death. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Betagon and continued to pester him about a "palette swap", whatever that was. Alpharius on his part was, during Azmina's breathing breaks, doing his best to antagonize Roboute Guilliman. While, as far as Rogal could tell, it wasn't working, Guilliman was making the mistake of actually responding.

Did the man have a dictionary in his head? He sounded stuffier than a room that had been locked for a hundred years.

Fulgrim and Ferrus Manus were engaged in one of their usual ego-stroking competitions. That is Fulgrim was gushing about how perfect Ferrus' weapons were and Ferrus was going "strength, strength, strength". Fulgrim would occasionally pause and engage in a complimenting session with Amphithoe, but those were usually quickly broken up by Esin, who monopolized most of Neptune's attention.

Konrad Curze and Jagathai Khan were discussing how to best preserve heads to make them appear most horrifying. Corax had managed to convince Mortarion to demonstrate just how many poisonous things he could eat. That is until Persephone had given them both one of those soulful sad looks and they both subsided into silence.

Then Angron started yelling at Leman Russ and Magnus to shut them up, which, of course, had the two yelling back.

Horus and Serenity actually attempted to get everyone to calm down, but this was sabotaged by Lion El'Jonson who chose this moment to start questioning Horus' authority. While Alta did her best to get him to shut up, it was still enough for Horus to get snippy.

Meanwhile, Rogal's stare met the gaze of Perturabo. Soon enough they were silently glaring daggers at each other.

Tekhne, unnoticed by the others, withdrew a book and started reading under the table.

{oOo}


	22. Mortarion's Woe

Author: Enthalpy

{oOo}

Mortarion stared at the corpse of the lesser daemon. It was one of the new daemons that the forces of the Imperium had began to encounter, and was already proving to be remarkably effective, one reportedly managing to neutralize an entire regiment of Adepta Sororitas all by itself. Rumors, of course. Despite this blatant lie and heresy, the fact that it had proven remarkably resilient was worrisome. Of course, the fact that it looked like an idealized version of him as depicted in some of those disturbing "fanfictions" he had seen had nothing to do with his worriedness. Of course not. How could he, a Primarch, fear one of these foul creatures?

He pointedly ignored the crowd of giggling Adepta Sororitas arrayed around the corpse, all clamoring for a glimpse, and walked away. Nothing good would come of this. He knew that. He felt someone tugging at his pants leg, and he smiled, gently picking up Persephone and sitting her on his shoulder. When he first felt the light tapping on his head, he ignored it, deeming it to be the result of the wind. After several minutes of the poking, he turned towards the source, only to have Persephone poke him in the eye.

He clapped a hand over the offending body part. "Ow." When his vision cleared, he opened his eyes again and received a face full of Persephone Puppy Eye (TM). He sighed, having learned that she wanted something when she gave him that look. After years of experience, he knew that denying her something when she really wanted it was a futile endeavor. "Yes, Persephone. What do you want me to do for you now?"

She pointed, and he followed her finger to where the throng of Adepta Sororitas was still congregated around the corpse. "Mortarion," she asked, "why don't you look like that? For me? Please?"

{oOo}


	23. The Little Serenity Chronicles I

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Serenity started to walk in the prescribed time. Her first steps were the result of her wanting to get her teddy, which had mysteriously found itself in the furthest part of her room. Then she learned to run.

And cling to her father's leg. The Emperor looked down to meet the Princess's innocent blue stare. Ah, it was time to be picked up by Daddy, was it not? Without stopping the conversation, he scooped the girl up in his arms.

Once he was standing straight, Serenity occupied herself with playing with his hair. He was quite glad she was past the age when she would try to eat it or try to grab his golden laurels. It was cute, but having the damn thing skewed over one eye got rather in the way of looking regal.

{oOo}

"No!" Serenity said and turned her head to the side.

The Emperor of Mankind let out a sigh. That was it then. His little girl had reached the "no" period. He did not dread it, of course. After all, he had brought up many a child and he knew it only lasted that long. For a being of his age it would be a mere eye-blink.

_Splat!_

Some of the apple mousse that he'd been patiently trying to feed Serenity landed on his forehead. Serenity giggled and said, "No!"

{oOo}

AN: Here have some cute~


	24. The Little Serenity Chronicles II

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Malcador had lived through many horrors. He braved the reclamation of Terra and the chaos that preceded it. All through that time, he stood by the side of the man who would later become the Emperor of Mankind. He was there when the Emperor returned baring a baby girl in his arms (well, power claw to be precise).

And now he had the unique pleasure of observing the effects of Serenity entering the pony-phase. In her case, it was a unicorn phase to be more precise. Of course, that was to be expected. In Malcador's experience all little girls went through at least a variation of this phase no matter what their parents and society in general did to discourage them.

However, most little girls that not have a parent who would seriously consider building them a robot unicorn. The project involved a rainbow coloured tail and mane and a horn of pure adamantium.

"Didn't you forbid AI?" the Sigilite asked in a far away voice.

The Emperor of Mankind blinked and sighed. His little girl would have to get by with only cartoons.

{oOo}

If Serenity had any faults in the Emperor's eyes, it was her approach to learning. She did not apply herself to studies as vigorously as he would wish. Some subjects, she was fond of and at those she was good. Etiquette had no mysteries from her. Other subjects she detested and at them her scores were abysmal.

"But maths is boooring," she moaned when the Emperor inquired as to why she had been not present in her chambers when her tutor arrived.

Silence fell as the Emperor of mankind digested this admission. The sentiment felt alien to him. Mathematics boring? It was like saying riddles were boring or like life was boring. This needed to be nipped in the bud.

"Serenity, from today you will be learning maths with me," he declared.

Serenity managed the difficult feat of looking both disappointed and enthusiastic at the same time.

{oOo}


	25. Differences I

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"Mars Star Power, Make Up!"

Thora wondered if the Orks had perhaps used some hallucinogenic gas, as out of character as it would be for the brutes. The girls looked like younger versions of her and the other Senshi. Mars, Mercury, Venus and her were there, as well as a girl who bore a remarkable resemblance to the Princess.

Once the… ballet with visual effects was over, the girls appeared to be dressed in uniforms, though Thora supposed they lacked in practicality. A few pockets wouldn't hurt, really. Or lower heels in some cases.

The girls ran away, only for a little girl to get out and attempt to follow them.

Ira was first to act and grabbed the child, before she managed to get away. Whatever it was that those girls went to do, she had a distinct feeling the child oughtn't to be there.

"I'll stay here with her," Tekhne offered, "and analyze our location. I suggest you three follow those girls and see who they are and why they look so similar to us."

{oOo}

The situation looked hopeless, at least to Calaveras. Petz was down, her wand starting to power up as Rubeus gloated.

"This is the true power of the wand," he declared smugly.

Then something blinded Calaveras. She could only hear Rubeus' surprised cry.

"Stand down, heretic," somebody said. To Calaveras it sounded like an older Sailor Venus, though why she would use the word "heretic" was beyond her.

"Is this a gun?" came Rubeus's half-surprised, half-amused answer. "Woman, do you realize who I-"

Calaveras never found out what Rubeus was going to say. There was a crack, presumably as the woman fired and a thump.

{oOo}

AN: Animeverse Sailor Senshi meet our Senshi. Set during the 72nd episode of Sailor Moon R.


	26. Differences II

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Kino Makoto was tall for a Japanese teenage girl. Thora was tall for a Fenrisian woman. The difference was quite staggering. Since she was not aware of that fact, Makoto nearly panicked when she got a good look at Thora. Would she grow that huge? What man would want to marry a giantess?

However, her distress would have to wait as the three women appeared intent on killing both Calaveras and Petz.

"Please, they learned they were wrong!" Usagi cried, stepping between the newcomers and the fallen sisters. To Makoto's surprise, the women hesitated.

"Are you Princess Serenity?" asked the one that looked like an older Rei.

That did not only worry Makoto; the other Sailor Senshi reacted with similar agitation. How would they know of that? Of course, they did look like them, but they all were aware that it didn't have to mean anything.

"Yes," Usagi nodded, her eyes shining with determination.

"Then you shall purify them with your powers," the Rei-look-alike stated.

"Are you serious, Ira?" the huge one snapped.

"Of course I am," Ira replied calmly. "If she is Princess Serenity, she will purify them—they are infused with some sort of dark power. If she is not, then she won't be able to and we will kill them."

"I don't think they're much of a threat," the one that looked like Minako said. "I mean, look at their clothes. What's that dot on her breast? Is she really that desperate for attention?"

As Petz prepared to reply, no doubt exacerbating the conflict, Sailor Moon chose to intervene.

"Moon Crystal Power!" she called out, raising her brooch.

The three women started with expressions of horror at the resulting purification.

"Why are they _naked?_" asked the Minako-look-alike.

{oOo}


	27. Differences III

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Ira found herself feeling somewhat offended. Her alternative version had not been suitably impressed with her pict of Magnus. So what if he was missing an eye. At least he wasn't scruffy looking like that temple-boy that kept giving Rei she assumed love-sick stares. Couldn't he get a decent hair-cut?

"He's wearing earrings!" cried Makoto, staring at something Thora was showing her.

"So are you," Thora replied stoically. "Well, what about your man?"

That had caused Makoto to blush. Thora blinked, wondering if she'd been like that as a girl. Surely not.

"You're not married?" Minako inquired.

"No," Azmina replied cheerfully.

"But A-, I mean Teekanne is?" Minako asked, looking at the two blue-haired Senshi as they fussed over Ami's little computer.

"It's Tekhne, and yes," Azmina answered, still disturbingly cheerful. "It was an arranged marriage."

Minako stared. Images straight from soap operas came to life in her mind. A- Tekhne on the floor weeping as her cruel father announced her engagement. Her silent suffering at not being allowed to marry someone she truly loved.

"A-and you didn't do anything?" she asked her voice quivering.

"No," Azmina replied. "Why? I mean, yeah, Perturabo's kinda crazy and paranoid, and he quarrels with Cousin Rogal all the time, but he's not a bad husband. He gave her a gun."

Minako wondered why Azmina sounded like it was the ultimate gift.

{oOo}

AN: Aren't cultural differences fun~?


	28. Some Things Even a Brother Won't Share

Author: Drakensis

{oOo}

Russ directed a glare at Angron.

It wasn't that he disliked his brother. To the extent alliances were necessary within their family, Angron was by temperament naturally suited to be one of his. It was nice to have someone else play the savage barbarian in comparison to the Space Wolves, candidates for which were not overwhelming. And the cartoon was hilarious, not that he'd admit to watching it.

No, Russ had only one major point of contention with Angron.

"We need to talk."

Angron gave him a look that suggested talking to Russ ranked somewhere below having a tooth-pulled in his priorities, but he drained the mug of mjod that Thora had provided him with and followed his brother out into the snow.

They walked a good long distance from the entrance to the Fang, what Russ privately considered 'safe range' and then a bit further just be sure.

"Don't look at her again."

Angron didn't pretend ignorance of whom Russ was speaking but the look that he directed at his brother suggested that his ire was real this time. "Why not?"

Russ growled deep in his throat. "She is... mine." His eyes locked on Angron, an alpha defying a younger wolf to rise up in challenge.

For a very long moment the threat of violence hung between them.

Angron's hand moved to his hip and for a moment Russ thought that he was going for his sword. He reached for his own frostblade, pausing only when he saw the anticipation in Angron's eyes. "No," he said, seeing that Angron's hand had instead simply been reaching for his helm. "I will not give you the excuse."

The other Primarch lifted the helmet up and held it over his head, the brim level with the bottom of his blunt nose. "Leave," he grunted. "I know the way." Then he brought the helm down and sealed it to the rest of his armour.

Hours later, when he lay on thick furs alongside Thora, Russ felt the first pangs of guilt.

"Did I offend him somehow?" she asked him. "To leave so suddenly."

"It's just his way," Russ assured her and started to ransack his brain for possible women he could set Angron up with. The galaxy was vast and somewhere across it there must be a woman who would be right for his brother.

Just... not Thora.

{oOo}

AN: Set some time before 'Differences'.


	29. Ill Advised Epiphany

Author: Drakensis

{oOo}

Russ stared at the picture. There was Thora. And there was a smaller, softer looking Thora.

There were all his sister's other guards as well, with their own strange-looking counterparts but...

Two Thoras.

That was... perfect.

"Thora," he asked calmly. "This... other you. Is she dating another me?"

"I don't think she has a man at all," Thora admitted. "Although it sounded like she wanted one."

Better than perfect.

"I need an Astropath." At long last Russ could be rid of his secret burden of shame. "Angron has to hear about this right away."

{oOo}

AN: Set after 'Differences'.


	30. Mr Cold Logic

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"I don't understand," Perturabo said, staring with an uncharacteristically worried expression at Princess Serenity. "It was a perfectly logical answer given the situation."

Serenity pushed a plate of cookies in his direction and managed to stay calm as Perturabo proceeded to sniff at them. Some of her brothers were simply odder than the rest and Perturabo's tendency to see attempts at his life everywhere was apparently a healthy state of mind for royalty on some planets, anyway. Father had once explained to her that in some places assassination was practically a natural cause of death for those in power.

"Go on," she said, daintily taking a sip of her tea.

"Yellow looks silly on a grown men," the Primarch of the Iron Warriors replied. "I don't see why Dorn—well, both of them—had to take offence at that. Dorn could change the colours of his Legion to something more sensible without making such a fuss."

Serenity blinked and wondered silently why supposedly logical people never, ever took the emotional side into account. Objectively, Perturabo might have been right, at least for his cultural background, but both Azmina and Rogal seemed to simply like yellow.

"You know, Perturabo, sometimes Mr. Cold Logic is not your friend," she said. "Sometimes you have to consult Mr. Common Sense."

Tekhne giggled quietly, while Perturabo considered the point.

"Common sense is a combination of past experience and commonly accepted knowledge," Perturabo said. "In this case logical and common sense are both one and the same. Yellow is associated with small animals, flowers and sun in almost all human cultures, not fearsome warriors."

Tekhne decided to chime in and add, "It's worth considering that what is considered common sense is not universal and varies from planet to planet," but then giggled again and said: "But, Perturabo, Mr. Cold Logic is not always your friend."

Perturabo frowned slightly. After a moment of consideration, he asked, "Why do I get the feeling you're talking about one of my body parts?"

{oOo}


	31. Roboute's First Smile

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Roboute Guilliman was enjoying himself as he listened to Rogal Dorn and Senshi Venus banter, when suddenly something flashed in front of his face. His retinas might have been superhuman, but he still needed a moment to adjust his sight after being forced to look into a bright flash.

Once the afterimages died down, he was rewarded with the sight of a smug Konrad Curze who was showing a new pict to an amused Fulgrim.

"What was that about?" he demanded.

"You smiled," Curze replied.

Roboute arched his eyebrows. "I've been informed it happens when one is amused."

"Hands up, who has seen Guilliman smile before today?" Fulgrim called out, grinning all too brightly for Roboute's liking. He was also disappointed when he nobody raised their hand.

{oOo}


	32. Most Excellent Adventures III

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

It was hard to tell what exactly had happened, but it involved a red-haired girl fighting with a panda. There was a large splash, as Mortarion fell into the spring face first. Suddenly, parts of his armor were floating up and a very confused nine-year-old girl rose from the water.

The girl and the panda did not seem to notice, until an enormous shoulder-pad struck the side of the girl's head, knocking her out. The panda froze, staring in confusion as the little girl hefted an enormous scythe. Wet hair still clinging to her face (and covering her up to the knees), she nevertheless managed to radiate killing intent of amazing proportions.

"You should watch where you're going," she said.

{oOo}

Saotome Ranma was a man (though currently his body was in the other, cursed form) and was not easily frightened. However, the little girl and her older companion had managed to terrify him badly simply by staring. He had been stared into handing over his shirt to the little girl, who needed clothes badly. Then he had been forced to carry parts of an enormous suit of armor, alongside with his father. Now, finally, he and his father were providing food for the two.

Admittedly, he could see why the two insisted they help them, as the little girl was another victim of the cursed springs, but he had expected his father to weasel out of it somehow. Genma tried, he really did, but the older girl looked at him sadly and the little one held up that enormous scythe to his neck, and then they somehow thwarted all escape attempts Genma had made.

"All the springs here cause those who fall into them to change into whatever drowned in them?" the little girl asked her voice quiet.

"Yes," Genma replied.

"No cure is known?" the girl asked again.

"No," both Genma and Ranma said.

The girl nodded to herself and looked up at them, her expression worryingly serious. "Both of you are cursed, are you not?"

Ranma nodded.

"Then you will help me find the cure," the girl said and started eating lychee in soy sauce.

{oOo}


	33. The Inauspicious Beginning

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

Whatever Horus had expected his sentence, his punishment would be, it wasn't this. When he'd been purified by his sister's Moon Princess Halation to the face, he had foolishly promised to do anything and everything to redeem himself, to make up for his crimes.

Sailor Pluto had arrived to take him up on his words.

"The Princess was supposed to save all mankind in my universe. Now. she is gone, and the position lies empty. Since you stole our princess from us, it is now your duty to take her place."

Foolishly, rashly, Horus had agreed.

Barely a day later, in the new universe, Horus now had to believe the Universe was sentient. He had the evidence. It had a foul sense of humor. And it had a grudge against him.

Not that he could blame it for doing so. He was a foul being. And he knew he deserved no mercy or clemency.

Still, this was a bit much.

Save the universe, yes. Guide mankind to a golden age, yes. Prevent the forces of Chaos from taking over, yes.

But...

_"WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO DO THIS IN A SKIRT?"_

{oOo}


	34. What Cannot Be Unseen

{oOo}

"In the name of the Moon, I will punish you!" Horus declared, looming over the stunned youma, fist raised to the sky.

The youma's eyes were wide with shock, and horror. Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. "..Gah?"

Clearly the sight of Horus in a skirt had derailed its brains.

That explained its sudden screaming in agony, "I HAVE SEEN WHAT I CANNOT UNSEE!"

As to why...

Firstly, Horus' day form was a fine figure of a man, brawny, muscled, tough. His head was completely bald and polished so highly that you could blind yourself by looking at it, and though he paid them no heed, he was secretly admired by the desperate housewives who secretly pooled their resources and spending money, to hire him to construct a pool in the clubhouse of their village.

The pay was high, the job was honest work. But that wasn't the problem.

...The problem came when the equipment he'd been given by Pluto was in use.

His day form was impressive. His night form was just as impressive. Both were bald. But where Day! Horus was a tall, brawny male, Night!Horus was..

An amazon. A tall, long-legged amazon with a huge bust and ass, all the curves in all the right places, due to extensive padding and illusions. But that was the best the pen could do for him.

It couldn't change the fact that whenever he jumped, the short skirt showed... far more than was warranted.

It couldn't change the fact that he was male mentally.

It couldn't change the fact that some people could TELL he was a man. Even with the disguise pen.

Unfortunately for the youma, its species was one of those who could TELL Horus was male. In white panties, short skirted sailor fuku and all.

Oh the humanity.

Death was a relief. _A glorious relief._

The youma went to its death in joy, despite the pain of being pummeled by huge stony fists and being ripped apart. After all, the worst was over.

{oOo}


	35. Unfortunate Bystanders

{oOo}

There were times when Nefer just hated his job. No, not just his job. His life.

This was one of them.

He'd been going out, intending to buy a new tie for his suit. Something in purple, perhaps? Most of his clothing was in various shades of blues.

So, he'd just been minding his own business, when he walked into what would have been a scene of carnage, if it had more blood. There, all over the department store, the collapsed forms of men, young and old sprawled.

Being a reporter, he did the only logical thing.

He hit the local equivalent of 911 AND texted his station. 'Massacre, Department store.' then he added the address.

"What the hell just happened here?" he demanded, checking on the collapsed men. They were breathing, thank goodness. Their hearts were still beating.

He was just starting to relax, when he felt a hand slip under his shirt to grope his chest.

"Hm. you're a pretty one, aren't you?" purred a voice in his ear.

Nefer grabbed the hand, dragged it out of his shirt, and threw himself away from the fucked up pervert. What kind of freak gropes a man in public anyway? Much less a goddamn crime scene!

...Apparently the freak in question was a youma, who gave him a laviscious look, taking him in, from head to toe. Not that it was any less creepy that the creature was female.

"Such beauty! You must truly be the prince that I was sent to find! Come, Prince of the Earth, My Dark Mistress awaits you!"

Nefer felt defiled just by being under that look, and once more, he cursed the universe silently, as he ran for cover. He was nowhere near strong enough to fight one of those!

Nefer was built similarly to those elves depicted in the gods blasted Lord of the Bling movie that had been playing a year ago. A lithe body built for agility, well muscled enough to draw eyes, but not brawny, with long, pale gold hair, and blue eyes offset by golden skin inherited from his Egyptian mother.

That... could be part of why he'd been promoted to being a reporter on a major news network (because the audience was mentally molesting him) but he preferred to believe it was just because of his work.

Nefer took his work very seriously.

{oOo}

Unfortunately, today, the universe decided to screw him over. Rather than arriving to cover the mysterious massacre of men in the department store, the news van he'd called instead came… Paramedics, police and all...

And ended up seeing not merely the collapsed men, but a running, traumatized Nefer, shirt ripped and torn from the youma's infernal claws as it chased him.

{oOo}

...This.

It was epic.

The cameramen started recording.

Nefer swore more viciously.

{oOo}

... And then Sailor Horus showed up. Silhouetted by the moon, 'she' struck an impressive image, posture ominous, yet heroic.

"In the Name of The Moon!" that deep voice boomed, barely restrained by the disguise pen's magic. "I will punish you!"

It should be noted that Nefer was a psyker.

It should also be noted the disguise pen had NO effect whatsoever on his senses.

Thus, he saw EVERYTHING.

"Oh goddamnit." Nefer cursed even as he was tackled by the youma. "Only in Japan, ladies and gentlemen." he muttered, under his breath. "_Only in Japan_ are we being saved by a giant bald transvestite." He choked down hysterical laughter. "With lipstick. Oh my eyes, I need to gouge out my eyes."

No, Nefer was not looking forward to having this recorded.

Job be damned. He wasn't paid enough for this!

Fortunately for prime time television, he was quickly gagged by the youma. Otherwise, there would have been a mature rating on this newsclip. From his swearing.

{oOo}

Nefer made a remarkably pretty 'damsel in distress', even with his clothes torn, and slightly bloody and bruises showing on his golden flesh.

The Producer approved.

Nefer cursed the gods viciously.

{oOo}

The cameras were still rolling. The youma boggled at SailorHorus, "You... Unclean! I CANNOT UNSEE!"

Then SailorHorus pummeled it to death, leaving a disintegrating corpse behind and went over to untie its 'hostage'.

Nefer gasped for air once the gag was removed, still mentally traumatized.

"..I'd say thanks but..." he managed. "I think I need brain bleach."

Horus looked offended.

Nefer passed out.

{oOo}

The newsclip rolled with Horus carrying the passed out Nefer to the stretchers of the paramedics in a manner similar to Dracula carrying his 'brides' away.

The clip went global.

Then the net went _wild._

{oOo}


	36. Suffering and Penance

Author: Djibriel and Nemi the Nen

{oOo}

_"Fighting evil by moonlight_

_Winning love by daylight_

_Never running from the real fight_

_'she' is the one called Sailor..."_

{oOo}

Horus knew he still had not suffered enough for redemption nor peace. But sometimes he heard the ghostly laughter of a family member and knew he was at least suffering enough to make progress.

The laughter slowed him though. Though it helped his battles to imagine his brothers' faces under his fist.

{oOo}

Nefer wondered what the hells he'd done to deserve this. He donated to charities. He tried to be kind to people. On that basis, he didn't deserve to have his name hooked up as the 'so-called love interest' of that goddamn transvestite.

And yet his flickbook page was now being hit over and over again by goddamn perverts. He was getting calls asking him about his relationship with 'SailorHorus'. He was being photopainted into things so unclean he could not bear to gooble his own name.

And now, now, the goddamn paparazzi were trolling him.

Trolling him!

Past lives must exist, and he must have been one of those goddamn Roman Emperors in one of them. There could be no other explanation for this dickery.

"I assure you, there is nothing between us. Now goddamnit, stop trolling me." he hissed at the reporter who shoved a microphone in his face. "How many times do I have to say it? No. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I do not know that person!"

"And there you have it, folks, he says he doesn't know who SailorHorus is... so tell me, Nefer Tarion, how many women have you dated?" She asked curiously. "Or have passed you love letters? Perhaps it's one of them."

Nefer looked at her, exasperated. Then he covered his face with his hand. "...I have had. No. Dates. Okay? I have my work. That is all. Please stop dragging me into this shit, okay? I was just a bystander!"

"A bystander SailorHorus rescued." She contended.

He rubbed his temples. "Look. Sailor..Horus would have rescued anyone, I just happened to be the poor schmuck there at the wrong time. Okay? Case closed."

Then he stalked into the coffee-shop, sat down and buried his face in his folded arms. "The gods must hate me," he mourned.

"There is no god, this is the Imperial Truth." came the deep rumble next to him.

Nefer raised his head, and looked aghast up at Horus. "... YOU. WHY?"

Horus rumbled unpleasantly. "This is my part time job. May I take your order?"

Nefer, shellshocked, said, faintly "A mocha latte with mint syrup please."

Then, as Horus walked away to get his cup, he buried his face in his arms again and wept.

{oOo}


	37. Suffering and Penance II

Author: Djibriel and Nemi the Nen

{oOo}

"It's very good that you are meditating Sailor Horus."

Horus cracked an eyelid open to glare at the annoying black feline beside him.

Emperor, why had Serenity not informed him that her advisors from the past were annoying, foolish, fragile, useless felines?

Oh. Wait. Punishment.

Right, that explains everything about this life, really.

"I am not meditating. I am merely reminding myself that this is my propper punishment and that it would not be of the right path to kick or otherwise harm cats." he told them gravely. "I believe the colloquealism is that it wouldn't earn me any points with the family, no matter how satisfying or how horrible the skirt is"

The female cat looked offended, the male cat sympathetic. "Well, I'm sorry." Artemis said quietly, "But this is all we've got to work with."

Alright, maybe when he was forgiven and could be redeemed, he would not kill the male feline. It was, at least, sensible. And sane.

{oOo}

By the time Horus returned, cup of mocha latte and tray in hand, Nefer had managed to regain his composure and wipe the tear tracks off his face.

Moment of weakness. Must not do it again.

Now, of course, he was filled with righteous fury. This man... had ruined his life. Had caused the repeated violation of his privacy, his personal space bubble, his family, his sanity.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"Sit." he told Horus, indicating the other bench of the booth he was in. "We need to talk. Why are you going around in a skirt?" he asked, keeping his voice just low enough to carry to Horus' ears.

"It is my punishment. I must redeem myself." Horus rumbled as he laid the latte out in front of Nefer. But he sat.

"Alright, you think you need to be punished, that's between you and whoever you wronged. But why the hells did you have to drag me into this?" Nefer hissed, exasperated.

"I know not what you speak of." Horus said, clearly puzzled.

Running on rage, Nefer pulled out his laptop. And for the first time in weeks, used gooble to look up Sailor Horus.

The sheer amount of porn that came up with the newsclip would have made him violently ill if it had not been for the fact he was focusing on opening the newsclip in another window. "This is all your fault."

"I beg your pardon?" Horus rumbled ominously.

"You _ruined_ my life." Nefer returned, beyond caring.

"I rescued you and saved your life." Horus pointed out, flatly, granite face uncompromising.

_"Only to destroy it beyond repair."_ Nefer hissed.

Then he opened the newsclip. The porn. Then he turned the laptop so the screen faced Horus. "Look at this you bald freak! This. Is. All. Your. Fault."

First, Horus looked at the porn, puzzled. "That looks nothing like me."

Then he saw the newsclip.

Then he looked back at the porn.

Then he went red with rage. "...My shame is redoubled. Warp take it!" His punch put a hole in the wall.

"You're going to have to pay for that." Nefer noted, still so traumatized that his mental filters were no longer working. "Speaking of which. My LIFE. You ruined it!"

Feeding off Nefer's clearly exhibited rage and mental trauma, Horus eventually came back to himself. "Is it righteous to exult in your suffering? In our Mutual suffering? I know not, yet, I will laugh."

Nefer reeled from this, face going pale. "I hate you so goddamn much_, there are no words._" he hissed, fists clenching. He knew he'd never win a fight, but he wanted to punch this bastard so damn much it made him physically ill.

"There are, after a fashion. It is called mocking laughter." Horus corrected him, perversely feeling much better at the sight of Nefer's pale, beautiful face with its expression of outright loathing. Oh, now that was a pretty sight.

The next words were ground out. "The fuckers have hit my webpage. My parents ask me when I'm going to bring the 'girl' home. My friends all whistle as I walk by and insinuate horrible _unclean_ things about me. and it is all your fault."

Horus agreed completely. And yet.. he was having too much fun. "...You should repent for your sins. I am. Every day I pray that my brothers that I turned will suffer as I am."

"Turned? You.. I don't want to know. I'm sure I've never DONE any sins deserving this kind of shit." Nefer hissed. It was only through a supreme act of control that he managed to not throw his hot drink into the man's face.

"I know, and I am enjoying it," Horus said, honestly, his face stony, and yet... and yet one corner of his mouth inched up in a smile.

_"You are a sick freak."_ Nefer choked out, aghast and pale. Shaking from rage and horror. What kind of freak enjoys the suffering of innocents?

"Please, suffer even more greatly." Horus continued. "No man wishes to be alone. I rejoice in your presence." He knew, this was foul. That it was wrong, and he must repent and purge it from him...

But it was so hard.

Nefer, driven to the state of mind that generally causes people to scream in horror and join cults, carefully put his laptop away, left his pay for the drink on the table. Then he threw the latte in Horus face and _fled._

{oOo}


	38. Clamp

Author: Enthalpy

{oOo}

**Clamp**

Clamp is (are) the Chaos Goddess(es) of Yaoi, Yuri, and fangirlism. She (they) usually appear(s) as one or more female figures. None have survived to see her (their) true face(s), as she (they) usually veil their faces and hide in shadow for secrecey, and it is unknown whether or not she (they) are one or multiple. Furthermore, when she (they) do appear to her (their) devoted, she (they) speak slowly and never more than one-at-a-time, so that what is perceived to be many bodies could be one moving from point to point. For ease of reference and to avoid the overuse of parentheses, she (they) will henceforth be referred to as a singluar entity.

She is best known as the Mother(s) of Yaoi, Guardian of Bishounen, Lord of Unresolved Sexual Tension, and Progenitor of Fanfiction. Clamp has also been given the titles of The Queens of Darkness in Light, The Corrupter of Childhood Stories, They Who Narrate, and She of the Androgyny, as well as many, many more.

Clamp was born with the unveiling of both the Primarchs and the Senshi to the galaxy, likely arising from the massive wave of "literature" published in the months and years afterwards. Unlike with the birth of Slaanesh, her birth did not cause any warp storms, likely due to the calming influences exerted by both the Astronomicon and Princess Serenity. Her symbol is the four-leaf clover, likely in homage to the first location where the "literature" which spawned her could be found, and her sacred number is four.

Clamp has neither rivalries nor alliances with any of the other Chaos gods, preferring to go about business in her own way. The other gods usually decide that she is not worth bothering with, as her deeds usually do not interfere with the other gods' own works. Instead of relying on frontal assaults, she prefers a more subtle approach. Her followers are mainly female, lured in by the iconic Bishounen lesser daemons, although there are males who worship her after their corruption by either Bishoujo or particularly gender ambiguous Bishounen.

Worshippers of Clamp often openly display her symbol on clothing, often as repeating patterns woven into the cloth. Other themes among cultists of Clamp include major changes in body shape. Clamp's cultists often exhibit distorted bodies which, defying all logic, still manage to function in spite of the usually overly elongated torsos and critically low percentage of body fat.

Clamp does not command any large amounts of Chaos Marines, preferring the use of her more subtle Bishounen and Bishoujo for infiltration purposes. However, both the Four Chains and the Tarot Binders have sworn themselves to their service.

By far the most common of Clamp's daemons are the previously referred to Bishounen and Bishoujo. They are lesser daemons of Clamp, and many of them are former cultists. They are Clamp's major infiltration force, and, due to their diverse looks and near-humanlike appearance, they are extremely difficult to detect accurately.

Bishounen and Bishoujo usually use their unique (and, to many, attractive) looks to infiltrate planets in the Imperium, usually posing as transfer students at some high school or another, to set up cells of Chaos Cultists. Bishounen in particular will often nearly immediately acquire a large retinue of followers, usually exclusively female, called "fangirls." This phenomenon does occur to Bishoujo, but usually only to a far lesser extent, as Bishoujo generally prefer to go with the "quality over quantity" method of corrupting the citizen of the Imperium.

Less commonly seen are the Loli, who cultivate the art of innocent posturing and use that to try to corrupt a single person. Distinctly recognizable, with their short stature and apparently young age (1), they are usually used when infiltration and corruption of a single, specific, person is necessary for Clamp's plans to succeed. Unlike the Bishounen, they almost always succeed at their corruption, often creating devoted followers of Clamp, most of whom usually rise to at least Lesser Daemon status.

Not to be confused with the Bishounen or Bishoujo are the Tsundere, who are used for assassination rather than corruption. After taking some time to approach the target and integrating themselves into their social lives, they will often find some way to make the death of their assigned target appear to be a simple case of either suicide-by-despair (if they choose not to be close to the target beyond a certain degree) or domestic abuse, if they choose to engage in a "relationship" with their target. A subclass of the Tsundere is the Tsundere Loli, which is what essentially is the Tsundere and the Loli mixed into one person. They are deadly a great danger to anyone, even other devotees of Clamp, due to their unstable emotional makeup.

Clamp has three types of Greater Daemons in her arsenal. The first is the fearsome Protagonist, who appear as either spiky-haired males or as elegant-looking females, most of who have flowing hair of various lengths. Often able to summon swords at will (2) or spontaneously generate lightning, they appear rarely, and then only when Clamp's forces are forced to fight against a superior foe. They are powered by belief, and can quickly become unstoppable juggernauts if not stopped in a timely fashion.

The second type of Greater Daemon are the Broken. They are her ultimate trump card in times of war, able to defeat entire Chapters of Space Marines without much trouble. Their power is legendary, although, due to their reluctance to fight, they are not called upon often. Said to be able to defeat even a Primarch in a one-on-fight, they represent, if not the very pinnacle, something close to the very top of combat arts. The most notorious of the Broken is known as Lou Boo, who was seen to eliminate the entire PDF force of one of the planets which he attacked in less than three days (3).

The third and final type of Greater Daemon is the Magical Girl. Often decried as heresy most foul by citizens of the Imperium, who find them to be mockeries of their very own Senshi, the Magical Girls, as evidenced from their description, are psykers of the highest order. Using their Chaos granted powers, they often serve as more prominent Bishoujo, corrupting Imperial citizens, often those who have psychic potential, and taking them to the Eye of Terror where Clamp resides. Strong fighters in their own right, they have befriended scores of the Emperor's finest with extreme prejudice.

The steeds upon which Clamp's daemons are mounted are called Makers of Fan's Service. Horse-like creatures, the distinct gait in which they travel will cause skirts to hitch up, and parts of the human anatomy to move in ways often referred to as "jiggling". Transportation using the Makers of Fan's Service is called "Gainaxing" by Clamp, although the reason for this is unknown.

The Studio of Clamp is Clamp's personal realm within the Warp. From there, she plots her plans, which are said to involve Persephone and Slaanesh (which neither Slaanesh, Persephone, nor Mortarion have knowledge of), and creates ever more and more warped blueprints for her followers to mold themselves to. Tremble, ye mighty, for the power of art is hers to command.

(1) As evidenced by measurements taken of chest diameter.

(2) The most prominent example of this ability is that of the Protagonist Ami'ya Sheero.

(3) All other records of the battle, or even the planet itself, has been erased from the Imperium's records. It is rumored that an Exterminatus was performed, and Princess Serenity's request to resurrect the citizens was denied due to the high proportion of Chaos cultists there.

{oOo}

AN: And here is a brief break from the torment of Horus and Nefer~


	39. Hope

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

"I know what I have done to deserve this, yet why must I suffer alone? Dear sister if you can hear me, please catch Fulgrim soon, he would look better in a skirt than I." Horus prayed quietly in the relative silence of his apartment.

"I didn't know you had a sister." Luna said, curiously gazing at him.

"Because it is none of your business." Horus brusquely told her. "Good night. Your litterbox is changed, your food dish is set out.

"I've already told you, I'm a person, not a cat." Luna pointed out, crossly.

"And I have replied, you are currently both tiny and furry." Horus riposted. "Cats need cat food. That is, how do people here say it? The end of the story."

Luna sulked as she stalked off, trying to figure out how to change to her form with the opposable thumbs.

{oOo}

Once again Nefer was trapped with Sailor Horus, as the latter faced off with a youma and Nefer just tried to get the unconscious people out of the way before they could get more trampled.

"Goddamnit, why now?" Nefer muttered, furiously moving another passed out salaryman. "This is totally not in my job description! There is not enough pay in the world to deal with this!"

"Though it slows my redemption, suffer with me." Horus said, stony faced and secretly amused as he watched Nefer pace back and forth, carrying person after person to a safer area behind some flipped over bookshelves.

"Why can't you wear PANTS?" The exasperated reporter asked, laying down a passed out matronly woman, throwing his hands up into the air, a gesture of frustration.

"I do, they disappear, this is part of my punishment, I am certain." Horus pointed out mildly, blocking an energy attack with a largish piece of statuary.

{oOo}

The reporter had a nice ass. Horus spared a few moments of contemplation on whether or not he had been under any mind-bending influences lately to make him think thus.

Drugs? No.

Alcohol? No.

Hallucinogenics? N-... Wait a minute.

Horus reached for his comunicator. "You. Feline."

"Ah, Sailor Horus? I don't understand..." Artemis said, hesitantly.

"I have a problem." Horus said bluntly, punching the youma in the face.

"What is it this time?" Artemis asked, curious and worried.

"I am having perverse thoughts about another male. Is it the fault of your strange and demented equipment?" Horus demanded.

"...Uh. I don't think so?" Artemis hedged,"Well, it's a bit more solid that an illusion, surely you've notice that you're not getting...pinched by the uniform?"

"..." Horus gave it a look that spelled out IMPENDING DOOM.

Artemis continued, "But, no I don't think it should have that effect. Maybe you should find a nice girl in heat and bring her a few mice and sugar candies? Oh, wait, humans don't do that. Still presents, and a girl"

Horus gave the communicator a dirty look. Almost started barking orders for an Exterminatus. Then he remembered, he couldn't call off planet, and had no space support. DAMNATION. "Never mind."

Slamming the communicator down, he loomed over the youma and cracked his knuckles.

"Pray to your Gods, Sailor Horus, for now it is time for you to die!"

The foolish thing began to gloat.

He silenced it with a punch that left a crater in the ground.

"I have renounced my gods and reaccepted the Imperial Truth. Death shall be a release for both of us."

{oOo}


	40. And So, They Multiply

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

The second Sailor Senshi appeared when Sailor Horus was in dire need of help. She also appeared in the presence of news station van.

The entrance, it had to be said, was impressive. She stood on a lamp post, her long slender legs on display. Most men and quite a lot of women sighed dreamily. The mysterious Sailor Senshi jumped off gracefully. The collective swooning continued as the victims of the youma attack had a chance to see her up close.

She was pale and slender, with long silver hair gently caressed by the wind. Her smile was both sad and mysterious. Most men and quite a lot of women felt the urge to rush to her and proclaim undying love. The youma twitched, as it had to face the fact that it was attracted to a giant man pretending to be a woman. Sailor Horus was bad enough, but this?

The newcomer raised her sword and proceeded to slaughter the youma in a gruesomely bloody yet elegant fashion. Once all was left of the creature was merely chunks of meat here and there, and small bone fragments. The pale woman turned to look at the gather people the beautiful pale smile never leaving her lips.

"All daemons shall die," she said serenely. She paused looking on dreamily. "And so will all perverts and makers of pornographic movies…"

This was when Sailor Horus gathered his wits and dragged her away.

{oOo}

AN: We really are having too much fun trolling the Primarchs aren't we? Still there is more to come~ :D


	41. Misunderstandings

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

On the day that SailorFulgrim showed up, Nefer took one look at the dramatic entrance. Then he covered his face with his hands and whimpered. "It's never going to end, is it? They're multiplying." He choked back a sob of incoherent rage and grief and seriously contemplated suicide. Then he manned up and swallowed his pride to go to one of his informants.

"I need to buy a rocket launcher." He said firmly. "And I need it now."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO MADE SAILOR FULGRIM SAD?" hollered his informant, all but frothing on the mouth, "ADMIT YOU'RE DOUBLE-DATING HER AND SAILOR HORUS!"

Nefer stared at him, aghast. Then the dam broke. "...Goddamnit I AM NOT DATING ANYONE!" he snapped, "LEAST OF ALL THOSE TWO PERVERTS."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT SAILOR FULGRIM?" the informant nearly chocked, "She's a beautiful fragile flower that had been deeply wounded and needs to be nurtured by a sensitive strong man AND SHE HATES ALL PERVERTS THEREFORE SHE CANNOT BE ONE! YOU JUST WANT TO KEEP HER TO YOURSELF YOU AWFUL MAN!"

Nefer wanted to scream at the stupidity of mankind. He wanted to weep. He wanted to go back home, home to lovely Egypt, or visit his family in Canada. He didn't want this. This was...

after the happenings of the past two days, Nefer's patience, his selfcontrol, had been stretched to the very frayed edges.

"I'm not paid enough to put up with this shit." Nefer said, trembling with rage. "I get kidnapped on an every day basis by pervert youma, the goddamn dark mistress is stalking me. And now this?"

He slammed his fist down on the table, startling the informant.

"IT CANNOT STAND."

He grabbed the informant by the collar, eyes ablaze with the seeds of madness. "Now give me the goddamn rocket launcher before I use that blackmail I had on you. That incident when you were with that transvestite? You remember, from New Orleans?Yes. I still have the negatives." His smile was as sharp as the bared fangs of a wild dog.

"Give. Me. The. Goddamn. Weapon. NOW."

"...Fine," the informant sighed. "BUT YOU'D BETTER NOT BADMOUTH SAILOR FULGRIM! OR HURT HER!"

"I DID NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS SHIT." Nefer snarled shaking the informant in his rage. "ALL I WANT TO DO IS LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO MOVE TO CANADA!"

"How about I buy you the tickets instead of the rocket launcher?" the informant perked up instantly.

"I'd take them if I wasn't on goddamn contract to the television station." Nefer whimpered, dropping the informant as his shoulders slumped. "I need a raise, and a lot of whiskey."

"I don't understand you," the informant shook his head. "You've got two beautiful women and you complain."

Apparently, the fact that Nefer was not dating had not registered. At all.

Nefer covered his face and whimpered.

"I want to be a monk." he said, pushed beyond his limits. "In the icy mountains of Canada."

"I don't think they've got monks in the mountains there," the informant replied. "I'd suggest Tibet, but... Well, anyway, rocket launcher?"

"Yes. Now." Nefer corrected him."And I like Canada. It has no yetis."

"Well, anyway, come back in a week? Oh and if you have any photos of Sailor Fulgrim..."

Nefer stared at him in horror and disbelief, as he whispered, "... I hate all mankind."

{oOo}

It was a glorious night, just the right temperature. Cool enough to sleep comfortably in pajamas without the need of a blanket.

The moon floated overhead serenely. However, in one apartment, the mood was anything but serene.

Nefer stared aghast at the two invaders, still holding a cup of cold water in his hand.

"What..." he said faintly. "Are you doing here? In my home?"

"We found your residence in the... what was it again?" Horus' brow furrowed. "Yellow Pages? We need your assistance."

"No." Nefer said immediately. "I'm not helping you with anything."

"But.." Horus tried to get a word in. Nefer carefully put down his glass, Then, ire up, he charged into the breach, metaphorically speaking. "I'm a CIVILIAN, GODDAMNIT. That means I HAVE. NO. MILITARY. SKILLS."

"But you can forge papers." Horus said smoothly.

Nefer looked at him in shock. Then dawning horror. "... Oh no. I am not committing a crime just because you need help sneaking your sibling in as an illegal immigrant."

"You owe me your life." Horus reminded him.

"You owe me my LIFE, my SANITY, and my MEDICATION." Nefer shot back. "I just got back from the therapist I had to take because of you. You and... Never mind. We shall not speak of it." he shuddered as the memories played back.

Sailor Fulgrim, in civilian form, smiled dreamily at Nefer and said, "You hate perverts. I like you."

Then she resumed polishing her sword.

"Your brother." Nefer hissed. "Is a filthy, filthy pervert."

Perhaps he was biased. Perhaps he was desperate. But he still hadn't forgotten that incident with the youma who'd decided to turn all hotels into love hotels.

Most notably, he hadn't forgotten that he'd been helpless and naked and SailorHorus had very nearly.. Oh no. His mind was not going there. He groped for his pills. "A horrible pervert. I am not helping him or you."

"You may regret that," Horus informed him, pinning him against the wall, enjoying the way his eyes widened and his face went pale. Horus knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't do it. But there was just something so satisfying about having him helpless like this...

"...Why can't you just pick someone else to help?" Nefer choked out miserably.

"Because I know you." Horus pointed out mildly.

"... I'd scream rape but no one would believe me." Nefer said bitterly, remembering the latest newspapers.

"Horus is not a horrible pervert," Fulgrim said, reimerging from wherever his mind had been. The smile was still there, still dreamy and far away. "I've seen horrible perverts. I can tell you about them. Do you want me to?"

She inspected the sword.

"... No." Nefer shuddered from atavistic fear.

"I think if anyone is worse than your brother I should move to Canada faster."

Fulgrim looked at Nefer. "Are those pills drugs? You shouldn't take them. They'll come for you, if you do. They come for everyone. Or maybe you should. Then I can kill them."

Nefer shuddered. "They prevent me from screaming and running away."

"You should try killing," Fulgrim replied. "It's much safer. They can't get you, if you kill them."

Nefer contemplated him with the same look another man might give a deadly cobra. An insane cobra. "...and that would get me thrown in jail. They have perverts in jail, you know."

"I think you're trying to manipulate me," Fulgrim said, inspecting his reflection in the sword. "And I shouldn't listen to you. I shouldn't listen to people who are trying to tell me to do bad things."

Nefer covered his face and caved in, as he had no real choices anyway.

"The world is ending and the only people we can rely on are all nutcases in short skirts." He shuddered. "Fine. I'll do your goddamn paperwork. But get OUT of my bedroom!"

{oOo}

The next day, several newspapers printed pictures of the two Sailor Senshi leaving Nefer's apartment.

And Nefer wept.

"I'm not paid enough for this shit."

{oOo}

AN: ...And Nefer too it seems. xD


	42. Fun in the Sun

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

The summer sun was hot, and bright and there was a heat haze rising off the sidewalk. You could probably cook eggs on it, it was _broiling._

And yet, while most people were in their rooms, sleeping it off in the cool darkness, some people were still working.

Nefer glanced at the man he could see working, from his seat by the window of the bistro. He mulled over things for a few minutes, then went to the counter.

Some time later, Horus, sweating, hard at work and uncomfortable, felt someone tap his shoulder. Insignificant, really. But he turned around anyway.

He certainly wasn't expecting what he saw next, after their ... recent flaming row.

Nefer offered him a grande sized iced drink. "Here." He said quietly. "I thought it would help."

Then he pretended not to notice Horus' quizzical look when he took the paint can and took a position at the other side of the wall.

After all, he had to maintain their vicious hatred of each other. It was practically tradition by now.

{oOo}

Other people who got caught in shit like this, Nefer thought bitterly, had past lives, or weapons, or training or superpowers. He was a civilian. How the hell was he supposed to help? More to the point, how was he supposed to avoid getting mauled?

Especially when the bastards kept dragging him into shit like this?

Today, for example, he was stuck evacuating people, normal unfortunate people, from a water-park. Where the youma had apparently manifested from a discarded pair of water wings.

So while the water-youma was perpetually putting itself back together after each time SailorFulgrim slashed it apart, and Horus put a hole in it with every punch, Nefer was stuck with the unenviable task of evacuating the place to make sure the passed out people wouldn't drown.

It didn't help that those people who weren't drained were gawking.

...You know what?

Fuck this.

Now what was available here?

He couldn't electrocute it, others might be hurt. Including the two sailors.

However... yeah, that might work.

"SailorHorus, do you still have that laser pistol?" he yelled. "You might want to use it on the youma instead of your fists!"

...The youma turned to look at him. He dove behind the shrubs. Then he snuck away.

And then SailorHorus shot the thing with a pink laser-beam that just didn't quit. The creature had absorbed a lot though, and was still semi-whole, though the laspistol burned entire areas to steam.

"I'm going to hate myself later." Nefer muttered gloomily, before he moved back within range, of the creature's sight, carrying what looked to be a good liter of gasoline. Then he tossed it into the creature, in the way of the laser-beam.

The resultant explosion had him diving for cover again, but when he came out, the youma was gone and there was water all over the place.

{oOo}

"Hiding behind the shrubbery again?" Horus said laconically.

Nefer glared at him furiously. "Screw you. I don't have any magic powers or shit, alright? It's a perfectly rational tactic when the opponent can pound me to a pulp!"

"Cowardly though." Horus pointed out.

"Fuck cowardly and fuck heroic, I want to LIVE. To live long enough to move to CANADA." Nefer snapped.

{oOo}


	43. Is This a Convention or Something?

Author: Bloody Mary and Djibriel

{oOo}

Lorgar felt betrayed. He was reaching the conclusion that a. the Universe hated him and b. any entity he considered his god, would eventually start to hate him. After all, if the Dark Gods had truly favoured him, he would have been immune to this.

"Hello, Lorgar," said a young woman, who bore very close resemblance to Fulgrim. In fact, once he got a better look, it became clear it was, indeed, Fulgrim. Apparently, a similar fate had befallen him too.

"Ah, Fulgrim," he replied, smiling nervously.

"You took part in orgies, didn't you?" Fulgrim asked, smiling in a way that suggested he was not entirely in the real world.

"Um…" Lorgar said, edging away.

He stumbled over somebody and fell. There was a weak croak, and once Lorgar peered to the side, he came face to leg with a purple spider-like limb.

"I'm sorry, but I have to kill you now, Lorgar," Fulgrim said dreamily. "You're a bad person."

Lorgar did the first best thing that came to his mind, which was throwing the spider-thing at Fulgrim. Then he hid in the bushes and silently cursed being the weakest fighter among the Primarchs.

{oOo}

The rushing sound of breaking fronds, branches and crushed shrubbery was enough to give Nefer warning to roll out of the way. What he wasn't expecting to see, w

hen the noise calmed down, was a giant man. A bald giant man. In a SailorSuit.

And the poor bastard looked about as traumatized as Nefer felt.

If that wasn't a foetal position, then Nefer would be very, very surprised.

He snuck on over, he tapped the fellow's shoulder, and gestured at the escape route.

"The highway's that way, I'm sure once the skirt wears off, you can hitch a ride. I'd suggest you move to another country, this one's going to hell." he said gloomily.

{oOo}


	44. Big Happy Family Reunion

Author: Bloody Mary and Djibriel

{oOo}

"What fuck happened to HIM?" Lorgar managed to whimper out. "I mean he was crazy, but not that kind of crazy. It was Angron who was all KILL, KILL, KILL."

He was babbling. He knew he was.

"I have no idea and I don't want to know, but I'm just glad he's never figured out how to use a computer." Nefer hissed back. "Because the internet is full of porn."

"Uh... and that's bad how?" Lorgar asked. Last time he saw Fulgrim, he was pretty certain he was on the road to joining the followers of the Prince of Pleasure. That kind of meant not having an aversion to porn.

"...Today, he has an aversion to perverts the size of a very large mountain, and a desire to kill every single one that crosses his path." Nefer pointed out. "And almost everyone in this country is a pervert. That means the blood would fill rivers."

"...It seems we are missing some vital information here," Lorgar said, frowning. "And I'm quite certain he knows how to use a computer... Well, that means blood WILL fill rivers."

"...I knew I should have moved to Canada when I had the chance." Nefer said gloomily. "Quick, let's go, we've got to pack our bags before they find us."

That was when Lorgar came face to face with two sixteen-year-old girls. One was tall and thin, the other looked like she could punch through walls. They both looked vaguely familiar, though a closer inspection revealed no illusions.

Nefer took one look at them. Then he covered his face and tried very hard not to cry. "Goddamnit, they've multiplied again! WHY, Gods. WHY must you curse me with this shit?"

"STOP WHINING YOU PUSSY!" roared the bigger girl. "AT LEAST YOU'RE NOT A GIRL!"

The thin one rolled her eyes.

Sailor Fulgrim landed on Lorgar moments later, having followed the sound of yelling.

"Oh, please, a gender shift would be better than being considered bait for every goddamn daemonspawn and pervert in this country." Nefer hissed back and fled.

"Noooo!" howled Lorgar. "Heeeeelp!"

"Poor bastard." Nefer mourned quietly. "At least one of us is getting out of here alive."

Then he heard the scream.

He covered his face. Sighed. And went back

"Fulgrim! Hey! Someone put you in porn!" he yelled, strategically sacrificing his laptop. Then he dove for cover again.

Nefer is a kind and gentle person by nature. It's a pity he's so damn naive.

What followed was best described in terms of a nuclear explosion. There was incoherrent screaming, flying bits of laptop and whimpering from various other parties. It took a whole five minutes, when finally the bigger girl chose to simply hit Sailor Fulgrim with a bench.

"KILL THOSE WHO MADE IT," she rumbled. "NOT THE MACHINE."

"They're on 4-Kun!" Nefer yelled. Then he went to hide in another bush.

"Must remember, if. _IF_ I ever get the chance to live long enough to marry and have kids. Must plant lots of shrubbery," he muttered to himself.

"Shrubbery is the key to long life among these whackos. No, wait. Moving to Canada."

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM?" mused the bigger girl. The thin one shrugged.

"I'm a civilian and you are all INSANE." Nefer snapped. "That's what's wrong. Since I met the big bald one, I have been molested, nearly raped, nearly fried, nearly murdered in over twenty ways and it's not even the goddamn end of the month yet, that's what's wrong!"

"PSH, I DIED ONCE," the big girl rumbled. "AND SO DID MORTARION."

"And I hadn't said a word to you," Mortarion added. "I don't see why you have to call me insane."

"Yes well, you have superpowers, and I don't." Nefer hissed. "I only have one life and I'd like to live to reach 90."

As for the skinny 'girl'... "You're a MAN. In a SKIRT." he clarified. "The problem with having the Sight is you see things that are really there. So when I look at you, I see a big man. In a skirt."

Mortarion's eye twitched. "I was a man in my previous life. Now. I'm. Just. Flat. Don't. Remind. Me."

Angron sniggered.

"...Why am I always surrounded by the crazies?" Nefer muttered.

Horus tried not to hide a smile. "The civilian looks more girlish than you. Trust me on it."

Nefer covered his face with his hand. "Oh great. Not again."

"HORUS! I WANT A REMATCH!" Angron roared.

"Oh God." Nefer prayed fervently. "If you exist, please make them fight somewhere else?"

"Where we come from there's four of them," Mortarion said conversationally. "They're all jerks."

Angron, meanwhile, followed his own suggestion and charged at Horus.

"There is no god, this is the Imperial truth." Horus rumbled pointedly looking at Nefer. "I have told you this, many times."

Then he punched Angron.

And Nefer went looking for another bush, coming across poor Lorgar once more. Poor bastard looked like he'd been beaten to a pulp.

"I hate my life," he managed to whimper out.

"I do too." Nefer told him sympathetically. Then he called the equivalent of 911. "Operator? I have an… injured person here. Yeah. It's me. What? No I don't think he has insurance..."

{oOo}


	45. The Ninja Moon Kitty Twins

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

Alpharius stretched his back, arched it, let his tail curl in the air, opening his mouth in a yawn. Then he began leisurely padding his way on over to where he

knew Horus now lived. He'd scouted out the place last night. Using his twin sense, he checked. Omegon was well, was happy, was oozing contentment as he... lay on his back and purred while Nefer was giving him belly rubs, a warm bowl of milk by his soft new bed.

"I like this one." Omegon sent him. "Can I keep him when we rule the world?"

"Huh. Has a soft spot for strays, does he?" Alpharius sent back, amused.

"Oh, very. Lorgar's on his couch, eating homemade cookies, reading a 'bible' and commenting about inaccuracies." Omegon sent back. "He looks happy as a clam."

"That bastard," Alpharius sulked. "He gets all the luck. Did you steal any for me?"

"Yeah, got you some sugar cookies here. He hasn't found my stash yet and keeps looking puzzled whenever another one vanishes from the tray on the windowsill."

{oOo}


	46. Affections and Plans

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Angron did not mind having a family. It was generally quite a pleasant experience, quite unlike his upbringing in the previous life. However, they had their short-comings.

"But Princess," Motherly Unit said in that mournful tone she always adopted when Angron did something manly, "you'll look like... a barbarian like this! Your friend, what was her name? She has such pretty long hair."

"BECAUSE SHE'S AFRAID PEOPLE WILL THINK SHE'S A MAN, BECAUSE HER BOOBS ARE SMALL," Angron replied at his usual volume.

{oOo}

Fulgrim stared at Ferrus Manus. It was quite creepy, but not because he was smiling. He wasn't. The dreamy smile was not there, instead replaced by complete blankness. Then, slowly the smile returned. Ferrus Manus took a step back, but Fulgrim was too quick. A moment later he was being embraced and listening to a rather disjointed monologue.

"You're finally here. I'm so glad. I missed you. You're not going away now. Ever. If you try, I'll kill you. And everybody who tries to take you away."

Fulgrim looked up, smiling serenely. "So, you just have to like me and only me. Then everybody will be happy and safe."

Fulgrim paused for a moment then added. "You were very friendly with Lorgar before. I saw you talking. Do you still like him?"

Ferrus Manus felt the perverse urge to scream. He suppressed it in a manly way, then decided to take revenge on his whole reason for being here. "No." He said, face as still as before. "But I do like Horus."

"Oh. You do?" Fulgrim asked, cocking his head to the side. "I suppose I will have to kill him then."

"You do that, but first we need to find a new apartment." Ferrus pointed out, mildly. Okay. Fulgrim wanted to be his and only his? He could work with it.

He blinked as if trying to remember something. "There's this nice man. I'm sure he won't like you, because he doesn't like any of us. So we can live with him."

"I think Lorgar already likes him and is living with him. The Twins said so." Ferrus pointed out, mildly, eyes filled with amusement. It would do no good to let them fight. After all, it would only eliminate another source of entertainment.

"Oh," Fulgrim paused. "Well. I can let Horus live for now and just tell him that I'll kill him once we find an appartament. That should be fine."

"That... would be nice. Why is there pornography of you on the internet?" Ferrus asked, genuinely puzzled.

Fulgrim's smile was still there, though there was something in his eyes that said "insane cobra". "Oh. That's because I hadn't killed all the perverts. Those deamons keep showing up all the time. You'll have to help me kill them and then we can kill the perverts. And the drug dealers, and the drug addicts... And all pop stars."

"...I love you." And strangely enough, Ferrus means it.

Fulgrim smiled and cuddled up closer. "See? We'll be very happy together. I really don't understand why it took you so long to grasp it."

".. You were getting laid with Slaaneshi daemons, that's why."Ferrus said sulkily.

"And you were hanging out with Lorgar," Fulgrim replied. "It wasn't very nice of you to leave me like that."

He blinked. "But I forgive you. I'll just kill Lorgar, and you won't be tempted again."

"I was jealous." Ferrus said mildly."Besides, you listened to him too."

Then he patted Fulgrim's arm. "Now, let's go steal Lorgar's cookies. And I mean that literally. That man who doesn't like us bakes them for him."

Fulgrim seemed to consider the idea, in so far as he considered anything that did not involve killing at this time. "All right," he said after a moment.

Ferrus hugged him. Yes, Magnus was right, this was all going according to plan.

{oOo}


	47. Angron vs Boredom

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

In theory Angron was supposed to let Horus go through the humiliation of fighting youma in a short skirt. He wasn't very good at that part though: for one thing he wasn't sure why the skirt was supposed to be embarassing - it was basically a kilt and he'd worn those for years since they were easier to repair than trousers. Also letting someone else do the fighting was boooooring.

In this particular case Angron dived headlong off the side of a building, bungee rope trailing behind his feet, skirt riding 'up' his thighs in a way that would have embarassed a real girl (and that gave Nefer nightmares). The carefully measured rope slowed Angron to a halt at precisely the right height behind the youma.

He quickly wrapped his brawny arms around the monster and roared in delight as the tension in the rope dragged them up the side of the building. He used the youma as a cushion against the friction of the brickwork, which didn't seem to do it any good.

When they came to rest, perhaps halfway up, Angron deposited the stunned and somewhat abraded youma on a window ledge while he bent at the waist, reached up and grabbed the rope with one hand and unknoted it from his ankles with the other.

"Who are you?" the youma demanded, somewhat hysterically. Being grabbed like that seemed to have knocked their customary arrogance out of it for the moment. "What do you want?"

"I'm Sailor Angron!" Angron replied cheerily, although he kept his voice down a little, just in case Horus noticed him. It was amusing watching Sailor Horus quarter the streets looking for the missing youma with increasing paranoia. Maybe this was what Night Haunter found so... entertaining. "You're going to be my special friend."

The youma didnt know exactly what that meant but judging by the look in the bizarre Sailor's eyes, it was time to whimper in terror. Ignoring this, Angron lashed the end of the rope around the youma's ankles and began climbing the building side, hauling the rope and youma up behind him.

He was quite oblivious to the hundreds of photos that were taken of his barely covered rear during this process and would remain oblivious since Fulgrim considerately hunted down and punished the perpetrators before the photos were placed on the internet.

{oOo}


	48. Gatecrashers and Cookie Thieves

Author: Djibriel/Bloody Mary Collab

{oOo}

There was a long moment as Nefer took in the sight of the two giant males, as his brain began to scream in horror, leaving him holding the door in shock. "Wha?"

There was Fulgrim, practically draped over the other man like a drunk girl at a bar, clinging to her boyfriend. Then there was the other man, as stone-faced as Horus. But, as it turned out, with more than Horus' amount of tact. "May we come in and take your cookies?"

Nefer had a horrible moment of utter terror wherein he wondered what cookies were meant, then he remembered he'd been baking. Oh.

"You may only come in if you give me your word there will be no fighting or murdering in my apartment." He said, obstinately, holding his ground.

Very much like a pomeranian facing a pitbull and a hunting hound.

Ferrus seemed to give this due consideration. "You have my word." he said politely, and Nefer reluctantly let him come in, rushing to the oven to take out the chocolate chips.

Fulgrim was giving Lorgar the Evil Eye. Lorgar looked like a trapped rat. And Ferrus?

Ferrus was taking cookies, eating them and said mildly. "These are very good. I see you made them yourself?"

Nefer's hands tightened on the dishtowel. "Yes, I did. May I ask why you are here?"

Ferrus seemed to give this due consideration. "We are getting a new apartment."

Nefer didn't seem to see the point.

Ferrus clarified. "We will be right next door to you."

Nefer fought the urge to scream.

"No fighting in either of our apartments?" He said, standing his ground again, bravely and futilely, he knew.

Fortunately Ferrus was less of a dick than could be expected. "Of course. In exchange, you will cook for us."

Nefer suppressed the urge to scream. "Only if you contribute to buying the groceries."

"Deal." Ferrus said, content. Then he petted Fulgrim's arm gently, fondly. "Shouldn't you learn how to cook, Fulgrim? We'll be stuck here a long while, right?"

Fulgrim turned his attention away from Lorgar and considered Ferrus Manus' questions.

Lorgar breathed slightly easier as Fulgrim's attention was turned away from him. Please, gods, let him survive this?

"I can learn to cook, if you want me to," he said. "I can learn anything you want. But... You don't like him, do you?" he eyed Nefer. "And you don't like Ferrus Manus. Because if you did I'd have to kill you. And I don't want to. So, you'd better not like each other. In fact, you won't be talking to Ferrus Manus anymore. Just with me. That way I'll be sure."

The serene smile never left his face and he cuddled up to Ferrus Manus, acting as if he said something completely normal.

"No I don't like him." Nefer said fervently. "I don't like any of you."

"And," Nefer added. "The sooner you leave my room, the sooner I can curl up in my closet to cry in terror."

{oOo}


	49. On Display

Author: Djibriel and Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Nefer hadn't really intended to go to the costume party, but, as his few remaining friends had pointed out; he really did need a break.

So he pulled out the shining collar, bracers and belt his mother had sent him from Egypt as souvenirs, wrapped thick linen around his hips and laced up the sandals.

After all, he was proud of his heritage, what was the point in hiding it?

He lined his eyes with kohl, before he set out, ostensibly to enjoy himself with a group of fellow party-goers.

Naturally, the universe felt the need to object to his budding good mood, and after turning from a giggly young woman in a greek costume, he found himself eyeball to abdomen, having inadvendently walked into what felt like a wall of muscle.

Clad in a white shirt and professional looking waiter's outfit. He craned his neck up and fought the urge to groan.

"This time I'm wearing the pants apparently. It lowers my rage." Horus confided, as he watched Nefer twitch.

Nefer covered his face with his hand and mentally counted one to ten before he met the taller man's gaze, trying fervently to ignore the fact that, other than the kilt, the belt, the collar around his neck and the bracers, he was.. well. On display.

"I see that. Let me guess. This is another part time job?" he asked, resignedly.

"This is correct. Canepe?" Horus offered his tray. If Nefer hadn't kept running into him so often, he'd likely not have noticed the malevolent glee in that stony gaze.

Nefer took a deep, calming breath. He would not start a fight he was inevitably going to lose."WHY do I keep running into you when you are on your job?" He took a canape.

"...Maybe you really did sin?" Horus suggested.

Another person, after this many meetings, would have wondered 'Are we meant to be together?' because of the Japanese belief in fate and reincarnation and red strings. Nefer wondered. "Do the gods hate me?"

Horus rumbled patiently,"I have told you before, there are no gods. Merely Warp entities."

"One of which shares your name and has a horrible sense of humor." Nefer sighed.

"I doubt that Horus of your books exists." Horus pointed out, amused in spite of himself.

Somewhere in the Immaterium, a being by the same name laughed.

And then proceeded to screw them over yet again. The screams began, as a youma entered the room.

"And I see we are both right. You provoked my family's god, and now I am suffering the results of your sin. Thanks a lot." Nefer told him flatly as he looked around for cover.

Horus dropped his head, "Please turn around while I change"

"Gladly." Nefer said fervently, turning around and covering his eyes. "There's a large metal lamp you can hit it with over by the stairs."

Horus gave him a measuring look, before he invoked the henshin device.

"My thanks...I hate this part. Cute Kitty Pen, Make Up!"

"...What the fuck?" Nefer did a doubletake, turning around. "Cute WHAT?"

"Don't Look!" Horus said, alarmed. Too late. Nefer got an eyeful that made him want to run away in terror, screaming.

"The damn cats made me say it!" Horus clarified quickly.

"...I know cats are sacred but that's pushing the boundaries of my belief a bit." Nefer said, faintly."Also, sparkly lights and ribbons?"

Horus frowned. "I told you not to look!"

"...The gods exist. I have proof now." Nefer's eyes were distant, his voice faint. "and they are out to get us." he finished gloomily.

"Warp Gods, yes, I suppose." Horus agreed, pleased he was finally getting through to Nefer. Then he went to kill the youma.

{oOo}

THE FOLLOWING SCENES ARE RATED M FOR GORE AND CANNOT BE SHOWN ON TELEVISION AT THIS TIME. PLEASE PAY FOR CABLE.

{oOo}

Nefer shifted awkwardly. "So. Um. Does the detransformation also have the sparkly shit?"

Horus was les off-balance. "No. Something about the illusory particles coming to gether makes the..light show is the term?"

"Yes." Nefer gave him a surprised look. "You're starting to adjust to this century, I suppose?"

Horus frowned. "It's backwards and low tech, but yes."

Nefer winced, when he saw what made Horus frown. "Miss, please stop groping the behind of the waiter I am conversing with." he asked politely.

She giggled and ran off.

Horus and Nefer shared a look of shared pain at the stupidty of humanity, before Horus regained his control. "Canape?" he offered.

"Why, yes, I think I will." Nefer said, dryly. "You got fired from your last job, didn't you?" he said, resignedly taking the canape.

"Yes." Horus rumbled, gloomily. "Something about repair costs."

"Told you to keep the collateral damage down." Nefer pointed out gently.

"Shut up." Horus told him.

{oOo}

AN: Flashback to when Horus was still doing 'solo work'


	50. School of Hard Knocks, Catachan Style I

Author: Khuzdul

{oOo}

Roboute felt the need to bash his head as hard as he can on the closest surface that can handle it.

A couple weeks ago, three of his brothers came to him and told him they arranged a series of wargames. 'To prepare our legions against the dangers of rough terrain' they had said.

He should have been suspicious. Especially when Leman Russ displayed a vebrosity much unlike him.

But he wasn't. He accepted. They took his Chapter, alongside a couple companies of theirs, to an uninhabited jungle world. They said they weren't competing against each other. They told him that he would be in overall command of the operation, and command four Chapters, a two thousand strong force of Space Marines consisting of White Scars, Space Wolves, Ultramarines and Death Guard.

He should have been suspicious. Especially when Jaghatai, normally quite stringy about who commanded his boys, gave them freely to him.

But he wasn't, he cursed himself. He went along with it. Then, Mortarion noted that the Imperial Guard regiment that would play the opposing force role was trained for this terrain, all the better simulate fighting the native population of a planet. Surely they wouldn't pose a problem for two thousand Astartes, right?

He should have been suspicious. Especially when normally sombre and pessimistic Mortarion acted that glib and sounded that slimy.

But he wasn't, he thought as he massaged his temples to ward off the monumental migraine that threatened. He nodded. No problems, right? He was commanding two thousand Space Marines, enough force to take care of several sectors, against a mere Imperial Guard regiment.

Now he rued the day he ever met that damnable colonel Greiss with that Ogryn bodyguard of his, or that bastard of a captain Straken, or ever heard about a planet named Catachan.

After the briefing, the Catachan regiment was given a week to settle and prepare to receive the Astartes force.

When the Space Marines arrived one week later, there were no fortified positions. No mock settlement set up displayed any fortification, or any sign of habitation.

There was nobody on the planet. Even worse, with the incredible crush of life produced by the jungle below, the auspexes were useless.

Roboute wasn't worried then. He had more than enough Astartes to work with. If they were hiding, and he expected that, he would just find them.

That was his first mistake.

{oOo}


	51. School of Hard Knocks, Catachan Style II

Author: Khuzdul

{oOo}

"What do you mean you lost three entire Scout squads to pit traps? You are wearing power armor, damn you, just pull them out! Punji sticks? How can wooden sticks score kills against power armor? What? Punji sticks made out of _captured Lightning Claws?_ Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Okay, this wasn't going well. He must refrain from calling the nearest Imperial Fleet station and order an Exterminatus on Catachan.

Breathe Guilliman. You can do it.

He was just ready to _strangle_ Mortarion. The bastard looked _so smug_. And that damnable girl just wouldn't. Stop. Grinning.

Another call came over the command line.

"What do you mean you lost the Dreadnoughts? Hung upside down from trees?"

No, he wasn't going to start crying.

{oOo}

Leman, Jaghatai and Mortarion were having too much fun for their own health. Roboute looked ready to bust something.

"Ohh, I don't think that shade of red is healthy." Commented Leman Russ softly.

"Shall we stock some antacids?" Jaghatai asked.

"Naah." Mortarion said after a short pause. "This is for his own good. You know how Father says we must learn humility."

"Does Father say that?" Leman answered.

Just as Mortarion opened his mouth to retort, Persephone poked his ear. "Ahh, that doesn't look good."

The Ultramarines Primarch had just torn the arm of the reinforced chair he was sitting in, and he was mangling the piece of hardened durasteel, his face a shade they would expect from Angron.

"Please tell me they didn't. Okay, can somebody explain to me how did we lose a squad's worth of Terminator armaments?"

{oOo}


	52. School of Hard Knocks III

Author: Khuzdul

{oOo}

Okay, trying to search Catachans in the jungle proved to be an exercise in futility... not to mention frustration. It was impossible to smoke them out without burning half of the planet, and trying to fight them in their own terms was just inviting trouble.

They just used every dirty trick in the book, some not in the book, and even some Roboute was just sure they invented on the spot.

Worse, they didn't even use their own weapons for it. He lost three whole companies to the jungle rats. Three hundred Marines, dead. And only ten percent of them were killed by lasguns, heavy weapons, and other things issued to Imperial Guard regiments usually.

He has not even seen a tank the entire time.

The rest, well the rest was the embarrassing part. Pit traps. Pit traps lined with Power weapons and chainswords stolen from the very Space Marines they were fighting. Rope traps. IEDs. IEDs constructed out of bolter ammunition, stolen from the Space Marines again. Forest animals (few things can make a tactical Marine scream like a little girl. Dropping a pissed off jungle viper down the neck of their armor did. Thankfully the venom glands of the animals were removed by the considerate Catachans, but getting bitten in the butt wasn't any less painful.). And a thousand and one other off the wall, completely unpredictable, utterly insane methods they used.

So Roboute conceded defeat. He wasn't going to defeat them in the jungle. So he decided to draw them back to familiar ground.

He pulled back to the cities and settlements and fortified them. He decided that he would deny them the support and supplies they needed and make them desperate, so they would have to risk open warfare.

That was his second mistake.

{oOo}


	53. School of Hard Knocks IV

Author: Khuzdul

{oOo}

Roboute Guilliman made a note. If any Catachan regiment revolted, it was better to just order an Exterminatus against whatever planet they were on. It just wasn't worth it.

When they drew back to the cities, and 'refused to come out and play' according to a vox broadcast made on an open channel from Colonel Greiss, Catachans declared that 'they would be coming to them, in that case'. And that damnable Colonel called him, Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines and Lord of Ultramar, a 'killjoy'.

Oh, for...

Then the games started. That damn regiment must have something that made them invisible.

"What do you mean the Sixth Company is unavailable. I need them to cover the southern approach. Can't wear their armor? Wha... How can someone put itching powder in one hundred Power Armor suits in one night, without one damn sentry or security imager seeing them? Get me that damn Sergeant. What do you mean he's in the head. Oh..." Roboute rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Just... Just wash them as quickly as you can. I need that group."

The Catachans came allright. In the night. Invisible. They moved freely through the Space Marine lines, like they weren't even there. They dropped surprises, adolescent 'pranks' everywhere. Worse, the pranks were constructed out of simple stuff found in the jungle. Itching powder made out of dried poison ivy. Stink bombs made out of animal excrement and skunk glands.

Roboute Guilliman went back to sit in his seat. A BRRRAAAAPP made him pause. He got up and looked. There sat an inflated toad, now fully crushed, on his seat. He looked back at his three brothers. Persephone was cheerily waving at someone, but she immediately stopped when he turned towards them.

He sighed. He was getting too old for this shit.

And he would get them back for this. Especially Leman Russ, with that damnable grin of his. He didn't know how, but he would.

{oOo}

Epilogue:

A month later, Ultramarines and other marines were beyond utter and burning hatred for the Catachans, and starting to feel a grudging respect. The men were tenacious. They were unstoppable. They just didn't comprehend the meaning of the word "impossible".

Finally, Roboute Guilliman's woes came to an end when he woke up one day to find a cross painted on his chest, along with a single shotgun round full of poisoned flechettes and a note left on his bedside table.

The note read: "Gotcha! - Sly"

At the end of the Wargames, Roboute Guilliman stood in front of the cameras of Imperial press, and shook hands with Colonel Greiss. His smile might have looked a bit forced, while the honored Colonel's smile was more than a little smug, and the journalists resolutely ignored the incessant giggling and snickering coming from the corner where the primarches of the other three legions participating in the exercise and Senshi Saturn sat. Though people were puzzled about the uncharacteristically short and hurried debriefing and award ceremony, nobody commented on the abrupt departure of the Ultramarines primarch and his long stays in the head.

But it was noted that Colonel Greiss advised the members of the press "to avoid the municipial water supplies, and prefer the bottled water and beverages provided courtesy of the Catachan 2nd".

{oOo}


	54. Roboute's First Date

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Roboute Guilliman was aware that he sometimes aggravated people, though he had no explanation as to why. The people whom he usually annoyed were his brothers, mainly the less wordy and the more… wild ones. Serenity was nice enough, but she appeared to like everyone. The same applied to Sanguinius.

Then, there was Dorn's cousin. She decided for some bizarre and incomprehensible reason that Roboute needed cheering up. Her way of providing it was to give him a hug as a greeting, which he wasn't that opposed to. While he would have preferred not to be embraced in the public, it was an acceptable behaviour.

What was not, was the conversations.

"So, ever had a girlfriend?" Azmina asked, smiling innocently.

"I do not believe that it should be of any interest to you," he answered.

Naturally, Azmina had not felt snubbed at all and continued prodding. "So, you didn't? Don't worry, Rogal only went to his first date because I set him up and spent an hour persuading him."

"Your point being?" he asked suspiciously. He did not like where this was going.

"I found you a date," Azmina said cheerfully. "She's real nice and pretty."

"While I appreciate your concern, I must decline such entertainment, as my duties-" he started to say, but Azmina chimed in before he even managed to finish the first sentence.

"Oh, don't be silly!" she said, patting his side. "You will enjoy yourself."

Roboute Guilliman lacked Rogal Dorn's legendary stubbornness. Regretfully, it took Azmina only a mere fifteen minutes to go to a date she set up.

{oOo}


	55. The Risks of Being a Tyrant

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

The Tyrant of Olympia was very worried for his future. Of course, he expected to benefit by marrying his adoptive son to Tekhne. Her family had gathered enough political power to be dangerous for him, if they chose to rebel. However, with their families united, they would prove to be a significant force of support.

What he had not expected was Perturabo's reaction. He had always been distant, but he appeared to be warming up to the young woman. The Tyrant could not help but worry a plot was brewing in Perturabo's head.

Well, he would find out. Perturabo was inexperienced and young (and it was best not to thing how quick he learned), so he still could probably keep himself in power.

Then he ran into his adoptive son, who proceeded to ignore him. That, in itself, was nothing odd. The odd thing was that Perturabo was grinning.

The Tyrant of Olympia nearly had a heart attack on that day.

{oOo}


	56. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn I

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

It... was an impressive structure, to say the least.

The walls were high for such a building, with flying buttresses as magnificent as the citadel proper itself. The towers rose to impressive heights, and the pinnacle was lined with rows of awe-inspiring statues and gargoyles, meant to scare away any evil-doers and other such of ill-intent.

Well, it might have been more magnificent in description, Azmina thought, if it hadn't been made completely out of cushions.

It had been two months since she had taken the duty of baby-sitting the young Dorn heir. It probably was the most fun two months, and the most fun for the months to come.

Case in point, Cousin Rogal's latest pillow fort, using pillows and cushions requisitioned from throughout the Dorn clan home.

It only stood a good ten-feet, but she had to admit, Rogal really did a good job.

She giggled when she saw Rogal's head peek over a plush wall, glaring at her.

Oh, like that's going to stop her as she began to lay 'siege' on the puffy bastion.

Rogal gaped and shouted in dismay as two days of hard work was torn down by his cousin Azmina casually kicking off the base of a pillow archway, bringing the rest of the plush fortress down over his head.

For the next three years, this would become a routine.

{oOo}


	57. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn II

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

There were many factors that would trigger Rogal's sudden need to build a pillow fortress. Of highest priority out of them all was from shielding himself from his cousin's 'weirdness'.

So, when he was dragged by Azmina to talk about...he shivered...shopping...he managed to slink away, and got to work. When Azmina noticed this, she just rolled her eyes, and began searching for her cousin.

Rogal used the pillows from the household, as well as acquired some from half the neighbors. The people have started to not mind, finding the young Dorn's fortresses both endearing and odd. Nevertheless, the resulting fortress looked like it was a natural wing in the Clan home, if such a wing was soft and cushioned from all sides.

Azmina sighed as she espied the double-doors of the entrance. Obviously it was barred from the inside, she surmised as she surveyed the majestic castle.

She couldn't help but giggle when she noticed Rogal glaring at her through a window. The giggle turned into a yelp of surprise when something soft impacted her face.

Oh, it was _on_.

{oOo}

The latest 'Rogal Fortress' would fall when Azmina managed to loosen a plush 'brick' from the western wall, then sneaked in, carefully avoiding Rogal and his 'pillow cannon', then took out the central support column.

{oOo}


	58. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn III

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

It became apparent something silly was afoot the moment young Rogal jumped out of a window. Fortunately, it had been only a window from the ground-level rooms. But it was nonetheless a rather unusual occurrence, but one, the servants were sure, would lead to him taking all the pillows in the household, and beyond, again.

This was punctuated by the fact that a loud feminine scream pierced the normal quiet of the clan house, and then came the angry stomping of feet.

By the time Azmina came to the door in pursuit of Rogal, said boy was already gone, more than likely off to make another one of his pillow forts.

Lady Azmina would not say why she was angry. Well, she was more annoyed than angry, but even then, she would not elaborate exactly what happened to get her so riled up. She did mutter about an incident with noodles, but chose not to say anything louder than a murmur, which the servants could not hear.

{oOo}

Rogal, meanwhile, had already gone on to take as much of the cushions as he could carry from the household. The other pillows from most of the neighbors he had already borrowed a few days ago. He had not taken any from his house in order to preserve a sense of normality before things got strange again.

With the pillows he had collected dumped into the cloth-covered ground that served as his 'foundation', he took the shovel he also borrowed, then began to dig.

{oOo}

Interestingly, the Dorn's neighbors began to learn the finer points of seating uncomfortably, and had even began to take comfort. Within a few years before Rogal finally gets over his pillow forts, there would be a small cult finding comfort in even discomfort. It would dissolve once people gets used to the fact their cushions were not going to get taken within the week again. And life goes on.

{oOo}

Azmina grumbled as she looked for her young charge. He was not to be found in his usual spots, nor his spots where he would build his silly little castles.

It was only when she heard a small commotion outside the compound that she finally knew where he had scampered off to.

The first thing that she noticed was the moat. Then he noticed the fortress itself.

It was just like his previous fort, except scaled up by twice its size. There was now an addition of towers and battlements. The main complex was lined with 'pillow cannons', and Rogal stood like a triumphant man, then, noticing Azmina amongst the crowd, gave her a challenging smirk.

Azmina responded with a laugh, then waddled off to borrow a pot lid and a wooden spoon. This was going to take some work.

{oOo}

Rogal and Azmina Dorn would come back later in the early evening, scuffed up and dirty, and, in Azmina's case, wet from head to toe, but both wore happy grins on their faces.

{oOo}


	59. Things a Father Doesn't Want to Know

{oOo}

The Tyrant of Olympia saw many things in his life. He had seen death and birth, joy and sadness. However, he had never come fact to face with a room full of research focused on finding the optimal position for safe and comfortable sexual intercourse.

There were pages of mathematical equations, charts in various colours. And sketches. On the table, on the floor and pinned to the wall. They weren't very detailed, but one could not mistake who the male participant was. There were no other men this big on whole of Olympia.

The Tyrant stared, his mind trying to catch up with his eyes. Of course, married couples did tend to have sex. He was aware of this. It just didn't work when he tried to think of Perturabo and sex in one sentence. His mind refused to cooperate.

Perturabo locked himself in his room for the night. Perturabo refused to let maids clean his room and preferred to do it on his own. Surely, he wouldn't-

A giggle broke through his train of thoughts. It belonged, quite unmistakably to Tekhne. It was followed by Perturabo's voice and though he could not understand the words, the tone was one he could not mistake.

His son was having sex with his wife in the room adjoining the study.

The Tyrant of Olympia clutched at his heart and stumbled away.

{oOo}


	60. Wolves Are Not Dogs, Try Again

{oOo}

Leman Russ stared at his Terran-born Captain as if he were a colossal moron.

"They're wolves," he said, adjusting Ulfhild in his hands. The little girl giggled and tried to snatch his ear-rings, but her arms were too short and so she settled for pulling on his beard. "Big, carnivorous wolves."

The Captain appeared to be rather confused, which made Leman Russ want to groan. He untangled his daughter's hands from his hair, as he continued.

"They're not dogs," he said. "Ulfhild is a child. And child pretty much translates to food for wolves. Am I being clear or do I need to draw a picture?"

The Captain shook his head mutely, clearly upset over having disappointed his Primarch.

"This is why leaving her guarded by Fenrisian wolves is a bad idea," Leman Russ concluded. "Now stop complaining and chose appropriate guards for my daughter."

The Terran Captain found himself later somehow a governor of a desert planet, populated by people who hated alcohol and liked cats.

{oOo}


	61. Educatio Veneris per Stultum

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Roboute Guilliman frowned as he perused the most recent medical reports on the sate of the Imperial Guard. Wounds were to be expected. Certain illnesses, as well, but there was a too high a proportion of the intimate kind among certain regiments. Not to mention the alarming rate of pregnancies, in or caused by the very same regiments. The Primarch of the Ultramarines put the report down and rose purposefully. It was time to visit his library.

Soon enough, he was surrounded with books in his quarters and scribbling notes. He cross-checked, double-checked and consulted various works. He prepared diagrams, charts and easy to understand illustrations.

After a week of continuous work, his newest piece of writing was an elegant manuscript. There were easy to understand pictures, where the penetrating partner was represented by a black pictogram and the receiving one in white. Safe sexual conduct for homosexual couples of both genders and heterosexual couples was discussed in different chapters. There was a whole chapter concerning responsible parenthood.

Now, he only needed to find the people who'd read it and start the proper courses.

{oOo}

Captain Degwin looked at his men. His reliable, strong men and felt his stomach sink to his knees. This was not his day, was it? Nevertheless, the Primarch himself had chosen him for this important task and he would not fail. He swallowed one last time, before pointing at a board with his sword.

"Gentleman, it has come to my attention that some of you regrettably lack some essential knowledge…"

{oOo}

Sergeant Dora Maw was doing much better then Captain Degwin. She roared. She cursed and made sure the women of her squad were too embarrassed, confused and terrified to make even one perverted joke.

"LISSEN UP, MAGGOTS! YOU ONLY LET PRICKS IN CONDOMS IN!"

Hah. It was good being a sergeant.

{oOo}


	62. Paper Adventures

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP!" Angron first shouted as soon as he beheld the large mountain of paper in front of him.

Kharn just shrugged, "Apparently, some paper work and expenses for our army."

Angron flailed his arms, " 'Some'? 'SOME'? There's enough to make a full Astarte paper-mache armor here!" Not that he thought about it, nope. Just making a useful connection-slash-comparison.

Kharn felt a headache coming on.

{oOo}

Persephone took one paper, then looked at Mortarion in askance. He just shrugged, which was a sign that he was saying yes, more or less.

So Persephone got to work on making a paper plane. Moments later, Mortarion would join her.

{oOo}

Rogal stared.

Azmina stared back.

"...Its not what you think." Rogal said without delay.

Azmina quirked an eyebrow, "I thought you've grown out of this habit?"

Rogal, in his improvised paperwork fortress, just glared at her, then threw a wadded up piece of paper.

Azmina just shook her head.

{oOo}

Amphitoe made a circlet and fan, an elegant combination.

Fulgrim made a crown and scepter.

Esin was making a paper throne for Amphitoe.

Jaghatai grew bored, then began making paper horses.

{oOo}

Roboute looked at the neatly filed sheets, a look on his face that could only be described as satisfaction.

{oOo}

Konrad Curze held much the same expression as Roboute did, having finished his own.

{oOo}

"Hiya! Back, foul beast. Bother the Imperium no longer!" Horus swung the tiny paper sword, then raised his paper shield. The paper Daemon spawn just rustled there rather menacingly.

The door suddenly opened, and Serenity stepped in.

"AGH!" There is a crash.

When Serenity takes in the sight before her, she quirks an eyebrow as Horus falls into a pile of what looked like paper-formed daemons.

"...What...?"

Horus would continue looking mortified for the rest of the day.

{oOo}

Thora finished the paper flower wreath, like the ones taught to her back on Fenris, then sat it on Leman, a bright smile on her face.

Leman just smirked, then continued fiddling with the paper tank he crafted.

Freki and Geri stood at their sides, trying not to tear off their temporary paper collar. It really did look good on them.

{oOo}

Ira took a bundle of sheets that Magnus handed to her, then dumped them into the bonfire she used for her readings.

{oOo}

Tekhne, though she was not all that good with this, was making perfect headway. Now if only Perturabo would stop looking at them so thouroughly. She didn't think there would be any threats to his life in the papers.

Honestly.

{oOo}


	63. Off to See the Wizard

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

Persephone woke up. Simple enough opening, but the fact that she had been sleeping in a ship that had been going through the Warp a while ago was something new.

So, it came to a surprise that when she looked outside, she came to witness not the twisting darkness of the Warp, but a bright and rather cheery-looking village.

So confused by what she was witnessing that she didn't realize she was outside the ship, gaping at the little people crowding around her. The munchkins, only coming up to her thigh, oddly looked dressed in what looked like leather-versions of the World Eaters legion armor.

"The witch...The witch is dead!" One munchkin suddenly shouted.

As the World Eater look-alike munchkin began singing and dancing, angrily happy she had to note, she turned her head back to the ship. Then blinked.

There, decidedly squished underneath the mass of the ship, was what looked like a Daemonette, whose feet were now curling like a shriveling prune.

She wondered if she was trapped in the Warp.

The chief of the little village, who bore a striking resemblance to Primarch Angron, came to congratulate her, she made an expression of wanting to go home.

Then things became blurry from there as the Good Fairy, who bore a resemblance to Serenity, granted her a pair of red boots, then sent her on her way to meet the Primarch of Oz. Or something along those lines.

Which didn't explain why she was walking along the eagle-bricked road, a golden-colored brick with the black outline of the the Imperium Aquilla. And for some reason, a dog who bore a superficial resemblance to Primarch Leman Russ came along with her.

Puppy was not the right word. It was more like a wolf that came up to her shoulders.

She still called it Toto, though.

{oOo}


	64. Off to See the Wizard II

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

Persephone resisted the urge to skip and sing along the eagle-bricked road. Toto, the shoulder-high puppy-wofl that bore a resemblance to Leman Russ, was running about, either playing and-slash-or tearing out the innards of the local wildlife.

She was terribly convinced that she was either hallucinating, or was trapped in some sick delusion by the Chaos Gods.

The Senshi narrowed her eyes. This is surely the work of Khorne.

{oOo}

Within the Warp, Tzeentch suddenly flipped the chessboard he was fiddling around with.

He felt inexplicably angry, for some reason. Like, he was not being given credit where it was indirectly due.

"DamNIt!"

Khorne, sedately sipping on his cup of tea, suddenly nearly spit it out in surprise, his monocle popping out of its place. He managed to catch his top-hat, though, before glaring at the Lord of Change.

"**WELL, I NEVER.**" He turned his nose up, and proceeded to snub Tzeentch. With his axe. In rage.

{oOo}

Anywho, Persephone, walking along, while Toto defaced the local wildlife.

Which was when she encountered Fulgrim.

Well, someone that looked like Fulgrim. If Fulgrim was made of straw.

"Why, hello there." Fulgrim pleasantly greeted Senshi Saturn.

"Um...hi?" she replied.

"I seem to be missing...something...I can't place what." The Fulgrim-double suddenly remarked.

He then began expressing this through song and dance.

Persephone was just perplexed at the sight.

In the end, she still let the Straw-grim tag along, to wherever this led.

Oh, right, the Primarch of Oz, or something like that.

The Senshi did not feel like getting a headache.

{oOo}


	65. Peanuts

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Every family has a list of things You Do Not Do. It's usually simple things, meant to avoid upsetting others, avoided by sheer instinct and insider knowledge. The Imperial Family is no exception and has its own set of unwritten rules.

Among many, there is one that most people would not believe exists, namely "Do Not Leave Peanuts When Sanguinius and Azmina Are in the Same Room". The incident that caused it had grown out of proportion with time and most members of the Imperial Family shudder at the mere mention of it now. In truth, it isn't very likely that it would happen ever again.

{oOo}

Azmina sighed as she tried to listen to her cousin discuss… something with Roboute. She liked them both a lot, but allowing them to talk with each other guaranteed they'd bore everybody else to death. Her gaze wandered until it stopped on the nearby bowl of peanuts.

She glanced at Roboute's head, turned temptingly to the side, then back at the peanuts. She couldn't waste such a golden opportunity…

Soon enough a peanut collided with Roboute's head. As he looked around another struck Rogal. The two glared at Azmina, who gave them her best innocent look. Then, Roboute was struck from the side and he turned to look suspiciously at Sanguinius, who had managed to wink at Azmina moments before the peanut hit its target.

Azmina used the moment of confusion and threw another peanut, but her cousin, taught by years of experience, managed to avoid it. Instead, it struck Angron, who had just entered the room square, between the eyes. The ex-gladiator blinked, looked around and decided to retaliate.

With a chair.

{oOo}

Not that it stopped Sanguinius from throwing fruit at Horus when he had the occasion.

{oOo}


	66. Leman's Lament

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"I HATE YOU!" Leman Russ roared, before leaving a stunned Tekhne to watch his hasty retreat.

She went through their conversation, trying to figure out what upset the Space Wolves' Primarch that badly. Admittedly, most men did find learning about the female reproductive system disconcerting, but she thought his reaction was rather over-the-top.

She sighed and followed the sound of Russ' charge across the hall, until she reached his chambers. She knocked politely.

"What's wrong?" she called out.

"That was too much information!" Leman replied, sounding mournful.

"There's no such thing-," she started to say, when the door flew open and she was facing Leman Russ again.

"I just figured out I can smell when women are ovulating!" he moaned. "I DON'T WANT TO KNOW THAT!"

{oOo}


	67. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn IV

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

As Rogal braved the snow, thanking that the weather at least abated enough that he can actually brave it, began to look at the nigh distant neighboring household with a feeling of something that approached despair.

Time and time again, his efforts in building an impregnable fortress continues to be thwarted by his cousin.

If its not a loose 'stone' that brings down his bastion, it would be a damage made by Azmina's hands. And, no matter how soft the pillow, or fluffy the cushion, it would always be brought down Azmina!

In a fit of melodrama, Rogal came down on his knees, then dropped face-first into the snow.

Oh, what was the use. He might as well lie down here, and let Azmina...he shuddered...gossip him to death.

Right here.

Yep, here. In the snow.

...Where its soft.

And sorta comfortable...

...Like a pillow...

He scurried to stand, then began to work.

{oOo}

Rogal's latest fortress would be considered innovative. For while there were parts made of the usual pillows, there came into play a new sort of material. One, he considered just as viable as cushions.

The outer walls were lined with compact snow, while the interior was lined with pillows to keep the inside warm. The battlements were lined with snow-covered pillow cannons, and some new experimental snow-launcher. He had to admit, the white snow off-set the colorful covers of the pillows. It was magnificent.

Dusting off his hands, and putting them on his waist, puffing up in pride, he walked into his most magnificent fortress.

...And came into sight of his cousin Azmina taking a nap on the plush floor, cuddling a pillow.

His shoulders sagged.

...wait, wasn't that pillow...?

A section of the ceiling above him suddenly came down in a torrent of softness.

{oOo}


	68. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn V

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

The fort was moving, Azmina observed as she stared in dumbfounded confusion, whilst she followed from a safe distance away from Rogal's pillow cannons.

Again, with Rogal's amazing knack with building, did he make something awesome again.

Rogal had built it using a cart that had been about around the Dorn compound. With mats and rugs, he then began building his latest fortress on top of it. Suffice to say, people had to gape and silently applaud his plushy architecture, making side comments about his future as a siege maker.

She giggled when she saw the top of Rogal's head peak from the battlements, reduced in size so as not to easily topple from the jarring of the moving cart. Azmina then yelped as she lept to the side as she heard the now tell-tale muffled 'FUMPF!' of the pillow cannon firing, just in time to dodge the soft cushion that had been aimed at her face.

Damn, not only were Rogal's forts improving, so were his cannons! That one had far more range than his previous ones.

Azmina stopped walking as she began to ponder this.

{oOo}

Fortunately for Azmina, unfortunately for Rogal, the cart was pulled along by the local pack animal, currently not seeing any use for any sort of labor. Of course, the pack was guided by a set course, only going around the Dorn household. But with even such a relatively 'short' course, it still had to rest.

So, as it grazed on whatever food it could find, Azmina made her move.

Of course, Rogal had anticipated this, and was fervently patrolling each of his battlement's perimeters, making sure to always have his hand on the trigger of his pillow cannon.

Azmina still bypassed his patrol, somehow.

Rogal was not sure how, he was not sure when , but he only had a moment to gape at Azmina and one of his pillow cannons she had managed to commandeer, before something soft impacted his face.

{oOo}


	69. The Fortresses of Rogal Dorn VI

Author: Jomasten

{oOo}

"My brothers and sisters! How uncomfortable are we today?" Asked a man in rather rough-looking robes. It itched something fierce.

Another man in the same robes bowed to him, "Young Lord Rogal has taken the arm-rests, well as some rope, along with his usual 'materials'."

The lead man quirked an eyebrow, "Rope?"

The other nodded, "Yes. We are unsure what he hopes to do. But we are sure that it will be, as is his usual works, be a grand undertaking."

The lead man nodded, even as he sat on the cold, uncomfortable floor, content.

In another place that was NOT inhabited by strange folks, relatively speaking, Azmina shook her head at her cousin's latest undertaking.

It was probably his tallest fort bar none, a good 30 to 40 feet of rising pillows, made steady and sturdy by generous applications of 'bricks' of rocks and snow wrapped in cloth. But the castle structure itself did not start until the very top, which stood about 20 feet by itself. And even with the threat of collapse, Rogal seemed to have thought ahead, and had made a full bedrock made of pillows, which also, in Azmina's effort to lay siege, piled so high that it stood a good foot over her head, which may also hamper her movement, allowing Rogal to bear the sights of his pillow cannons onto her.

Azmina, with her trust bronze pot helmet, clay lid shield, and giant serving spoon equipped examined her plan of attack with a critical eye.

Cracking her neck out of any kinks, she thanked a servant as he provided her with a warm shot, before securing the pot on her head.

She was sure that neighboring villages could see this magnificent plush collosus.

{oOo}

_POFF!_

Wiggling herself upright, Azmina blinked as she watched the crumbling soft remains of the pillow fortress. Beside her was Rogal, equally as flabbergasted at the events that had transpired which led to the collapse of her greatest fortress.

But then again, the fortress was already balancing precariously on the pillow tower, it would only stand to reason that even such a stupid thing as a bird not seeing where it had been flying would have toppled it.

And the two had been so into their climactic wooden-spoon fight, too.

Azmina pouted while Rogal sulked.

But they still laughed themselves silly nonetheless.

The servants could never witness a more heart-warming sight.

{oOo}


	70. Mischief and Gifts

Author: Khuzdul

{oOo}

It was little Ulfhild's tenth birthday, and the entire Imperial family was present in the Fang, in the Wolf King's personal chambers for the occasion.

The gifts were various, but Thora had been watching Jaghatai and Esin with a suspicious frown the whole time. They were grinning like loons, and they deliberately pushed themselves to the last of the line by keeping their seats. From the mirroring frown on Amphithoe's face directed towards her significant other, Thora can see the Chemosian Senshi was as clueless as she was on that issue. Another thing that increased Thora's suspicion was the whine of landing thrusters she heard from the landing pad outside half an hour ago. When she peeked through the blinds, she saw a small cargo shuttle carrying the markings of White Scars settle on landing struts.

Finally, everybody handed the beaming young girl her presents, and the grinning duo approached her.

"Our present is rather big." Jaghatai said, ruffling the head of the youngster, ignoring the little hands trying to swat his large paws away.

"Why don't you come out and see?" Esin added, holding out the little girl's coat she grabbed from the rack before she approached.

Thora rolled her eyes. She can already guess what those two did.

Esin appeared next to her as Jaghatai led the excited youth out of the doors, followed by the rest of the family. "Don't worry. We made sure they can handle her and this place."

Thora threw a glare over her shoulder to the blonde haired steppe rider, but all she got in return was an impudent grin.

A jubilant shout from the landing pad proved her suspicions right.

_"PONIES!"_

{oOo}


	71. Luther's Unwanted Discovery

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Luther had faced many problems ever since he'd been sent back to Caliban. He had to assure the Space Marines that they were going to go back to the Crusade. One day. Hopefully. Only, of course the last part. He had to appease the Imperial administration and mediate in quarrels between them and the indigenous population, where both sides expected him to take their side.

He was quite certain those were all normal parts of local politics, even the occasional old-timer or disgruntled noble getting an audience with him only to grumble about the good old times, when a trip to a forest could end in the stomach of a beast.

What he did not think was normal was the fanmail. To his sister. Most of it was written by young women. He had just picked up a scented package that was addressed "Lady Alta" in pink lipstick and something happened—the paper tore—Luther let out a terrified howl—Zahariel dashed in—

Only to have a pair of lace panties land on his head. The Librarian picked them with two fingers and regarded them stoically, while Luther hyperventilated.

"They appear to have been worn," Zahariel observed clinically.

"I WANT ALL OF THIS BURNED!" Luther snapped, hysterically. "MY SISTER IS NOT GOING TO RECEIVE… THIS!"

He gestured at the offending garment, feeling curiously light-headed. His sister had fangirls. Lusty fangirls of the underwear-sending type.

He wanted to cry.

{oOo}


	72. Clash of Titans

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

It was a clash of titans. Red against black. Superhuman flesh and bone against it's own mirror.

Azmina had pressed one fist between her lips and was gnawing absently upon her knuckle to keep her silence.

Oiled, slippery skin gave no purchase as the two men wrestled their way across the floor of the training hall.

Thora's hands were covering Persephone's eyes. She was sure that her face must be glowing sufficiently to betray their vantage point the minute anyone looked for them.

Angron's shoulders hit the floor, hard enough to dent it. A knee crashed against his hip, pinning him and two black hands closed upon his. He could feel hot breath against his face.

At the back of the little group, Ira affected to be unconcerned. She preferred more... intellectual pursuits. This crudity simply wasn't to her taste. And any hastening of her breath was merely due to the unnecessarily high temperature in the compartment.

They rolled, Angron twisting with the experience of years to bring Vulkan beneath him. The mighty Primarch of the Salamanders had little leverage but his mighty muscles forced him upward nonetheless against his brother.

Serenity squeaked excitedly, drawing gazes from all those in the room. In answer to the accusing looks from the Senshi, she indicated Vulkan's loincloth that had for some reason gone astray.

"WELL SPOTTED," Angron boomed and lifted the garment, handing it to Vulkan. "COVER YOURSELF BROTHER, THERE IS A CHILD PRESENT."

"Shall we call it a draw?" suggested Vulkan.

There were groans from certain unnamed Senshi.

The two Primarchs shook their heads and proceeded to start wiping off the olive oil. Neither had considered before that their sister and her court might have an interest in traditional wrestling forms.

{oOo}


	73. Those Bloody Magpies!

Author: Winged Knight (first section), drakensis (second), Bloody Mary (the third)

{oOo}

Magnus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't entirely sure how to deal with this. On the one hand, it was certainly impressive one of his successor chapters had managed to achieve such a thing. On the other, Chapter Masters of over one hundred different Chapters were nagging him about it and it was giving him a damn headache. It didn't help that Ira found the whole thing completely hilarious.

And now this had happened.

"Gabriel..." he began, looking for the words.

"Yes, my lord Magnus?"

Another sigh. "Gabriel, enough is enough. This can't continue."

The Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean, my lord."

"Gabriel, it was bad enough when the Blood Ravens were just nicking small things from other Chapters you came across. But this is simply too much."

The white haired marine looked at his hands, where the master-worked power weapons still gleamed in their new red coat. "It's the powerfists, isn't it?"

"Yes. Now scrub off the red paint and give Roboute back his Gauntlets."

{oOo}

It had started out quite innocently. Two Blood Ravens had happened to be present when Persephone needed extra pairs of hands to carry the lamps she'd just purchased.

Then they got lost and called in a Thunderhawk to carry the three of them back to orbit.

It was, admittedly, an error of judgement not to explain to the pilot that they were taking Lady Persephone back to Primarch Mortarion's flagship and not to the Blood Raven Battle Barge.

That did not justify the Death Guard launching a boarding action to rescue their little sister though.

"My brothers," the Chapter Master observed solemnly. "I'm beginning to worry about our reputation."

{oOo}

Ira regarded the gathered Blood Ravens sternly. "I realize that there are a lot of things a Space Marine might crave to be found on the battlefield, but you must remember that you represent not only yourselves."

"You are Space Marines, Imperial Angels of Death-you are warriors forged by the will of the Emperor himself. You have been named in my honour, after my-"

Silence fell, as the gathered Blood Ravens and Ira watched Phobos and Deimos fly away the sword of the First Captain gripped in their talons.

"You've been teaching them!" Ira called out angrily.

{oOo}


	74. Grulgor's Woe

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Ignatius Grulgor had stood still for the past half an hour, staring mutely into space. His brain was rebooting, to use a Mechanicum colloquialism, ever since Senshi Saturn had deigned to embrace him and had left.

Nathaniel Garro had passed him two times and found it decidedly odd. Then again Nathaniel Garro had little idea what had transpired. Just as he was passing the Second Captain the second time, Grulgor had finally snapped out of his stupor and lunged at him.

"I do not invite hugs!" he roared, grabbing Garro's shoulders and shaking him. "I do not appear upset or-or lonely or any such maudlin, sentimental things!"

Nathaniel Garro blinked once, completely taken aback by the sudden outburst.

"I AM NOT STRESSED AND I DO NOT NEED A HUG!"

"As you say, captain," Garro replied uncertainly.

"Don't look at me like that!" Grulgor ranted on, then shook Garro accusingly. "You don't believe me!"

Garro managed a very false and uncertain smile, the kind one presents when thinking 'Damn, that guy is high and has a gun.' Carefully, he placed his hand on Grulgor's shoulder and said as kindly as he could manage, given who he was speaking with, "Perhaps you'd like to visit the Apothecarion, captain?"

Grulgor stared at him for a moment, before managing a weak, "Yes."

{oOo}


	75. A Tasty Mystery

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"Yes, I did sucker punch him, can you bloody get over it?" the Lion snapped. "He was laughing at me and being an ass. Why do I get all the blame?"

"Because you're the Primarch of the First Legion," Horus replied quickly, "as you remind me every single time I'm around."

The Lion growled, the sound quite reminiscent of his namesake. Normally, Horus got along with most other primarchs without particular problems, but there were moments where his people skills failed. In fact he was suspecting that Jonson's lack of social graces was simply rubbing off on him.

"Horus, Lion," Serenity said, just as the Lion was getting ready to respond. "I made some soup. Do you want to try?"

Behind her Mortarion was holding a tray with two bowls. Just as Horus' gaze fell onto them a few bubbles escaped the surface of the brownish green liquid. The Warmaster was quite certain it blinked at him.

"Don't worry, Mortarion tried it already," Serenity said, sounding as if it was reassuring.

Horus was too polite to mention why it wasn't helping in the least, but the Lion had no such qualms. "Mortarion drinks a concoction of deathly poisons as a victory celebration and likes chocolate with pickles. He is not a good judge of food."

Serenity was not as adept at giving upset soulful looks as Persephone was, but she nevertheless achieved a quite staggering effect with a simple pout. Horus was the first to give in and take a bowl.

He gingerly tasted a spoonful, ignoring the ominous bubbling and what could be charitably described as mystery meat floating on the surface. He paused, staring at the wall with a baffled expression, and then proceeded to devour everything.

The Lion surveyed the situation suspiciously, before letting curiosity get the better of him. He spent seven seconds staring at the soup with a baffled expression before saying feebly, "This is quite tasty."

Serenity beamed. "It was so nice of Mortarion to help me, don't you think?"

The Lion and Horus exchanged horrified looks.

{oOo}


	76. Culture Clash: Inwit and Prospero

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Rogal Dorn regarded Amunet sternly, before turning his accusing glare at Magnus. The Crimson King returned it with a polite, if confused smile, encouraging Dorn to vocalize his displeasure (at whatever it was.)

"Isn't your daughter…" Dorn paused, searching for the right word, "…underdressed?"

"No, of course not," Magnus replied, his amused glance landing on his brothers unbuttoned shirt. "In fact she's quite conservatively dressed, though of course it's not particularly hot today."

His unperturbed behaviour was rewarded with a confused look from Dorn, which amused him to no end.

"Not particularly hot?" his brother repeated his voice incredulous.

Magnus chose to take pity on him and not tease him further, as amusing as it was. "You're an ice-worlder, brother. You grew up in a patriarchal culture. It all means that you assume that clothes serve as anything more than a symbol of status or means to keep the cold out."

Rogal's eyebrows twitched up. "Are you implying I'm—"

"A prude," Amunet laughed, before embracing her uncle. "But we love you anyway."

{oOo}

AN: Inspired by the art Djibriel very kindly created for Amunet, can be found on her DeviantArt page. Link in our profile.


	77. An Angronic Possession

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

It's well known that the warp is shaped by living emotion.

It's less known that belief plays a role as well.

The nascent daemon was trying to find out where Serenity had come from. This wasn't unique. Untold billions of minor daemons were doing the same, in the sure knowledge that whoever provided the Four with the knowledge would be rewarded beyond measure. Or eaten. The two were not mutually contradictory.

There were two things that made this one different, however.

The first was that this daemon was among those being shaped primarily by human beliefs, part of the long, slow and inevitable process of forming a Warp God in the image of the Imperium of Man (a process being slowed to a glacial crawl by that irritating mortal hogging all the fun). This particular khorneling was being drawn to images of violence within human children.

The second was that the daemon was very close to successfully managing the whole multiversal transposition business. Not through any particular genius, just by, in metaphorical terms, tripping over a crack.

And without figuring out how to report this partial success - multiversal transit accomplished, incorrect multiversal destination. Khornelings weren't known for thinking these things through.

As it transitied, the daemon shifted a little further towards its end form.

{oOo}

"How cute!" Arf declared, seeing the stuffed toy.

Fate was buying a gift for her mother when they returned to hand over the Jewel Seeds that the two of them had gathered. Generously, she'd also given Arf a little spending money for herself.

The teenaged market stall clerk stared in appreciation as the busty redhead bent over to pick the doll up. It was white with blue shoulders and he guessed it was supposed to be some sort of soldier since it had two swords. Then Arf pressed it against her bosom and thought was something that escaped the boy, not to return until much, much later.

"It's so cuddly!" the familiar announced and held it up towards the clerk. "How much."

"T-take it!" he half-shouted. "It's a gift!"

"Really?" Arf bounced in excitement. The boy's eyes tracked her movements. "Thank you!" And then she rushed off, the clerk not even bothering to wonder at the tail escaping from her tight shorts in excitement.

{oOo}

Fate cried out as her mother brought the whip down against her. Through the shock she heard a strange tooting sound. Had she been more familiar with earth culture she might have recognised the bugle signal for a charge, as produced from a kazoo.

And then Precia Testarossa was attacked by an eight inch tall toy Angron.

{oOo}


	78. Laughter is Not the Best Medicine

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

"...and when the patient woke up, his whole skeleton was gone and the Doctor was never heard from again." Fabius broke into cackling laughter.

Solomon paused and then also chuckled. It was a fairly amusing story, after all, gruesome though it was.

After a moment the Apothecary leant forwards on the operating table, holding Eidolon's primary heart in his free hand. "Anyway, that's how I lost my medical license."

The Sergeant's chuckle cut off but before he could enquire there was a chirping from inside his ribcage.

"Archimedes!" Fabius glared angrily at the servo skull. "No!" The semi-intelligent device lifted itself out of the wound and scooted away on its anti-gravity propulsion. "It's filthy in there," the apothecary shouted after the device. "Ugh. Machines!"

Solomon considered his fellow member of Legion III's bedside manner rather eccentric at best. But this was the first time he'd ever contemplated his chances of running away from him. They weren't good. His injuries were severe: a mere mortal would long since have died.

Jamming the heart onto a many-pronged cybernetic implant of some kind, Fabius reached for one of the many invasive looking medical contraptions above the table. "Now, most hearts couldn't withstand this voltage but I'm fairly certain yours -"

There was a sudden squelching sound and Fabius shut up.

"What was that noise?"

"The sound of progress, my friend," Fabius replied, turning around to a cabinet. "Ah, perfect." He returned with the heart - at least Solomon presumed it was the same heart. It looked... larger. "Where was I? Ah, there we go." He held it up again. "Come on... come on..." He burst out laughing as the organ began to beat in his hand.

"Oh. That looks good." Solomon was not happy at how surprised the Apothecary seemed to be to be saying that.

"Should I be awake for this?"

"Well... no. But as long as you are..." The Chief Apothecary dropped the heart back into the chest cavity and plunged his hands in after it. "Could you hold your ribcage open a bit? I can't seem..."

Solomon screamed as Fabius twisted the heart into position, less from that than the fact one of his ribs had come away in his hands.

"Oh don't be such a baby. Ribs grow back."

I'm never letting this lunatic treat me again, Solomon pledged privately to himself.

{oOo}


	79. Like A King

Author: Winged Knight

{oOo}

"Greetings, remembrancer! Come, sit and drink with me! This is the finest Fenrisian ale!"

The small man jumped at the sound of Russ's booming voice, barely managing to compose himself before sitting down at the long table where Russ and his wife sat ready. Thora gently batted him on the arm, a small reminder about how loud he could get. He smiled sheepishly and took a swig from the large flagon in front of him.

"Uh, thank you, my lord, but no. I have a job to do and it's best to do it with a clear head."

"Ah," Russ said in a significantly more reasonable voice. "Tis a shame, but I can appreciate a man dedicated to duty! Still, sit down. It wouldn't be right to leave you standing."

"My thanks, Lord Russ."

The man sat down and brought out a small recording device from his travel bag, setting it on the wooden surface. He clicked it on, and a small light shown green that it was recording.

"Lord Russ, as you know the people across the Imperium are curious as to the history of the Primarchs. Now, tales have been told, of course, but our organization felt it might be best to hear it from the mouths of those who lived it, so to speak. I was hoping you'd honor me with an interview."

Russ's smile widened, showing off his sharp canines. "Why, I would be happy to! Before we begin in earnest, I'll start with a brief synopsis."

Born from the Emperor!

_LIKE A KING!_

Kidnapped by Chaos!

_LIKE A KING!_

Raised by wolves!

_LIKE A KING!_

Accepted by the Russ Clan!

_LIKE A KING!_

Meet my wife!

_LIKE A KING!_

She's very beautiful!

There was a brief pause where the Senshi Thora kissed Leman, allowing the startled remembrancer a moment to gather his thoughts. What was the Primarch doing? He knew the lot of them were all larger than life, with their own eccentricities, but this was more than he expected. He didn't have much time to think of the matter, however. Soon enough Leman turned back to him and continued.

Kill a mammoth for her!

_LIKE A KING!_

Get married!

_LIKE A KING!_

Lead the Clan!

_LIKE A KING!_

Have a daughter!

_LIKE A KING!_

I thought it was going to be a boy!

_LIKE A KING!_

It freaked me out!

_LIKE A KING!_

Meet my father!

_LIKE A KING!_

And my sister!

_LIKE A KING!_

_THE GREAT CRUSADE!_

Go off on wars!

_LIKE A KING!_

Kill aliens!

_LIKE A KING!_

Defend humanity!

_LIKE A KING!_

Piss off The Lion!

_LIKE A KING!_

Man needs to loosen up!

_LIKE A KING!_

Maybe get a girlfriend!

_LIKE A KING!_

_AGE OF HERESY!_

Betrayed by Lorgar!

_LIKE A KING!_

Tricked into attacking Magnus!

_LIKE A KING!_

I was gonna punch him!

_LIKE A KING!_

A lot!

_LIKE A KING!_

Serenity stopped me!

_LIKE A KING!_

I tried to anyway!

_LIKE A KING!_

She beat me up!

_LIKE A KING!_

Thora helped!

_LIKE A KING!_

"Hold it!" an imperious voice called out, punctuated by a sword crashing into the long table and slicing it in two. Russ was on his feet in an instant, rune sword ready and crackling with power. The remembrancer grabbed his equipment before hundreds of pounds of wood smashed it to pieces and stumbled back, looking everywhere at once for the source of the attack.

From the door came a tall man in garish golden armor. He strode in like he owned the place, pausing only once to brush some snow out of his slicked back blond hair.

"What have I told you, barbarian? I do not appreciate thieves who steal the ideas of my august self. Cease your inane caterwauls at once before I cease them for you!"

"Oh?" Russ snarled. "And how are you gonna do that, you wee little dandy? Don't you have a little girl to play servant to?"

"Insolence! How dare you speak to the King of Heroes such? I'll have to show you your proper station!"

"Methinks you didn't get enough spankings as a child. Come over here and I'll fix that for you!"

The man's sneer grew into an mask of rage, and he charged the primarch, swords appearing all around him. Russ, in response, howled and rushed him. Soon enough they were in the thick of what could only be a bar brawl.

"Is this…" The remembrancer swallowed to work some liquid into his dry throat. "Is this normal?"

"Don't mind them," Thora said as he pulled another flagon of ale from another a table. "Gilgamesh just shows up every now and then looking for a tussle, and my husband is happy to oblige him. Nothing too damaging ever comes from it. Leman knows if he wrecks the hall he's sleeping outside, and Gil knows if he does the same he gets no more meals from me."

The poor man could only blink as Leman Russ and the strange warrior continued to go at it, and he wondered if his compatriots were suffering similar problems with the other Primarchs.

{oOo}

AN: Something of a shout out to another fic hosted on SpaceBattles (though more serious than you would think from looking at this). Like A King, by Icura.


	80. Starring Adama Oriente

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

Adama Oriente almost swallowed his tongue as part of his dressing room ceiling seemed to unfold into a Primarch. A Primarch in midnight-blue armour very very familiar to him.

There was barely room in the small room for Adama in his faux-Night Haunter costume (fortunately he wasn't wearing it as the stains resulting from this surprise would ruin his reputation). Adding the _real_ Konrad Curze in his power armour crammed it beyond belief.

"Ah uh eh..." the actor stammered while the Primarch waited patiently for him to wind down.

Cruze raised two fingers. "Firstly, hold your elbows higher when you're throwing a punch," he ordered. "I am aware that you are only an actor but it's just sloppy."

"I-I-I will do that."

"Good." One mammoth finger folded down and Curze examined it as if lost in thought. Trying to remember what the other item of business was? The fact he was offering advice suggested he didn't actually object to the show...

Then a small book was offered, open to a blank page, along with a pen. "My sister would like your autograph." Another hesitation. "Sign the next page too."

Adama decided not waste time wondering who the second autograph was for and quickly scribbled his usual autograph on two successive pages. The book closed and was quickly folded away.

"ORIENTE! YOU'RE DUE ON SET IN FIVE!" came a call from outside. The actor's head whipped around towards the door and then he looked back towards Night Haunter.

Or at least to where the Primarch had been.

He was alone in the room.

"...did I just imagine that?" he wondered.

{oOo}


	81. Cartoon Heroes

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

Persephone deployed her deadliest weapons: big, pleading eyes. "Please."

Mortarian's counter was a non-committal grunt that wasn't agreement or refusal.

"Oh go on," Sanguinius prodded him. "Say it."

"I will if you will."

Sanguinius's eyes grew slightly panicked. Persephone turned her puppy-dog eyes upon him and the leader of the Blood Angels folded faster than a pack of cards. "Alright, but no recording this." He glared discreetly over Perspehone's head at Mortarion. "And you go first."

Mortarion's mouth worked as he built up some phlegm. Sanguinius and Persphone moved out of direct line. Their brother was something of a perfectionist. "Lets get dangerous," he spat, to Perspehone's applause.

Then he smirked slightly at Sanguinius. "Your turn."

The winged Primarch shuffled forwards, looming over Persephone and then leant down to look at her, holding out his hand, two fingers crossed. "Repeat after me: This world!"

"This world," she repeated obediently, trying not to giggle.

"Is Made Of!"

"Is made of!"

"LOVE AND PEACE!"

"Love and Peace!" she squealed and then hugged his leg for a moment before returning to Mortarion's lap.

{oOo}


	82. The Librarian's Day Out

Author: Drakensis

{oOo}

For once the Legion of Angron was a solemn group.

No ships traversed the Warp.

Astropathic communications were neither sent, nor heeded.

Solemnly, thousands of World Eater Astartes gathered around hundreds of hololiths near objectives across half the galaxy. Some of them carried little flags. Others wore simple, brightly coloured tabards over their armour and glared at those with differing colours.

Eldar Farseers across the galaxy shivered and made sure that none of their people were in the vicinity. Other precognitives felt the unease, which led to no small amount of caution by the enemies of the Imperium.

Magnus the Red teleported into Angron's command centre, dragging a protesting Leman Russ behind him. Senshi Mars joined them shortly afterwards, curling up next to the progenitor of the Thousand Sons on an overstuffed armchair.

And in remote corners of battle barges, strike cruisers and other vessels, a very small number of Astartes made joyous preparations for war.

They were the Librarians of XII Legion.

They were the Legion's astropaths, their navigators, their predictors and their counsellors of the uncanny.

There weren't very many of them and they were ferociously overworked. Cloistered and burdened with duties that kept them from the battlefield, something that frustrated all true sons of Angron.

But they always had their hopes and aspirations, centred upon one ritual enacted by their caring and compassionate Primarch. One day, THE day, when they could go out and play. One day [I]every[/I] year when they could prove to the rest of the Legion that they - Were - Still - WORLD EATERS!

Dozens of Astartes Librarians left their bases and ships by boarding torpedo or Thunderhawk only if teleportation wasn't an option. Hololiths lit up and thousands of World Eaters leant forwards like the eager sports fans that they were.

Within moments the blood of the enemies of Mankind flowed as the geeks, nerds and freaks of Angron's Legions began to kill them.

Kill them with their MINDS!

{oOo}


	83. So You Want To Marry Our Father?

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Farseer Macha blinked. Then looked up. And up. And up. Finally, she founder herself staring not at the grey armor, decorated with assorted fangs, pelts and idols, and instead a mane of red hair, golden eyes and a grin which held far too many sharp teeth for a human mouth.

"So," Leman Russ said. "You want to marry my father, eh?"

Macha flushed angrily. "Of course not!"

Just because she had stared a bit and blushed, and stuttered, and had a pict under her pillow, people were suddenly assuming she was interested in the Mon-Keigh Emperor. Who was very powerful and handsome and smart...

"I come in his name to negotiate your bride price," the Wolf King continued with a grin. "And the morning gift. And your dowry. Oh, and the gifts you should give to his family too."

Macha blinked. Slowly. "I'm not an item!"

"Ah, so you do want to marry him!" Leman laughed.

"No!" Macha protested.

"YOU WILL IF YOU SPEAK WITH HIM WILL STANDING TOWARDS A WINDOW," Angron said. Macha wondered if she had gone deaf. Or crazy.

"No, that one got removed after the Lord Governor accidentally married his table," Russ said. "But she could give him her garter."

"THAT'S FOR DIVORCE," Angron replied.

Silently, Macha wondered if killing all the Eldar Farseers on Biel-Tan would be over-reacting.

{oOo}


	84. Wayward Sons

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

Magnus the Red frowned as he tuned his guitar and gave the Blood Ravens a speaking look.

"Since apparently explaining this to your chapter in words hasn't worked... I can see Vulkan's new plasma cannons on your armor, Martellus, don't think I haven't noticed it…! I've decided to try to express it in music."

The music he chose was based on a far, far older tune, one he'd heard from his father's record collection, and then he raised his voice in song.

"Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done.

Stop relic-napping from your friends,

Don't you steal no more!

Once I got past the red tape and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion

Your armament collections are soaring ever higher

But I didn't pay for it to be that high

Though my eye could see, you think I'm a blind man

Though your excuses pass, I still am a mad man

I hear your cousins when I'm working!

I can hear them say,

Stop your frakking wayward son

There'll be peace when he is done,

Stealing from all our friends..

We can be friends no more!"

{oOo}


	85. Go For The Eyes!

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"GO FOR THE EYES, BOO! GO FOR THE EYES!"

The roar did not reach the level of volume Angron's voice could reach, but it was nearing the amount of decibels. As the tattooed Initiate rushed headfirst, his training partners scattered, though not without causalities. A youth with skin as brown as his hair stumbled away, actually missing an eye, as Initiate Minsc all but ran over a black haired boy without an eye.

The remaining three attempted to attack him together, but while the idea was sound in theory, somehow the combination of boy and hamster proved to be too much for them to handle.

Captain Kharn leaned forward, a grin very much like the one that tended to grace Angron's face spread over his features. His younger companion—the newly promoted Third Captain—cautiously edged away, but his augmented hearing help him catch the Equerry's awed whisper of "Dibs."

{oOo}


	86. Live Long and Prosper

Author: Djibriel

{oOo}

Vulkan sighed, and then, to please Serenity, he gazed down at her with an expression of the utmost solemnity, then raised his hand, palm forward with the fingers parted between the middle and ring finger, and the thumb extended. It was the Vulkan salute.

"Live long and prosper," he rumbled gravely. Even the fake pointed ears couldn't make that expression undignified.

Serenity squee'd.

It was glorious.

{oOo}


	87. A Promotion

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

The Emperor had a vast collection of ADnD rule books, including some of the most bizarre and obscure ones, not to mention a veritable riot of various fan-created works. It was perhaps a somewhat silly hobby for the Master of Mankind, but at his age one was permitted a great many oddities.

"Serenity, Horus," he said, placing the core rulebook (edition 350—the best in his opinion), "we have played many a game and you two, as my eldest children are ready to step to another step of being role-player."

"As you know, our family is growing and so is the amount of players in our games."

He looked at the two sternly. "Horus has twenty brothers and Serenity has her Senshi. In the future some of them might want to introduce spouses or children into the game—that is why, from to day on, we shall play in three groups and each of you will be the Dungeon Master."

The pile of rulebooks had reached a gargantuan sized, all up to the Emperor's mid-chest. "Here are the rulebooks—I expect you to be familiar with them by the next session."

The pile disappeared almost instantly and the Emperor was left to wonder how to tactful tell Horus that a basso squeal of delight was not the most dignified of sounds.

{oOo}


	88. The Hereafter

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Aloysius Tell had long and fulfilling life. He had worked as a construction worker on an agri world, managed to father four daughters with his wife and three sons with his lover. He died at the ripe age of sixty-two, surrounded by his children and grandchildren.

Then, he woke up in a plush waiting room on a sofa. It was quite the high-class waiting room, with some exotic potted plants and luxurious lady behind the reception.

There was also no queue.

"Welcome to the afterlife, Mr Tell," the woman said, smiling a motherly smile. "To the left you see the Astronomican door-enter and you shall help our glorious Imperium steer its mighty ships with your essence. You can also remain here, until the Princess uses her wondrous powers to send your soul into a new body. Do not worry, you don't have to choose at once."

After what appeared to be thirty minutes, Aloysius opened the Astronomican door and found himself in an enormous projection room.

They were running the Saga of the Angry One.

{oOo}

Serenity looked at her father incredulously. "You connected the Astronomican with a the holo-network?"

The Emperor of Mankind shrugged. "I thought they might use some entertainment there."

{oOo}


	89. I'll Call Him Poe

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Corax looked down at the cage. It had a purple bow tied around it. A small card dangled from one of the bars, tied with a bit of ribbon. It had the words "Happy Birthday" written on it.

The Primarch of the Raven Guard moved his gaze to Persephone, who was looking at him hopefully. Then he looked at the inhabitant of the cage. It was a tiny black hamster with a white streak around its neck. It gave him a solemn look, before stuffing its mouth full in an equally serious manner.

Corax titled his head to the side and the little rodent did the same. He could still feel Persephone's eyes on him and by the time he averted his gaze from the hamster Mortarion was glowering at him too.

He was probably taking too long to respond.

"…I'll call him Poe," he stated quietly.

{oOo}


	90. He Started It!

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Imotekh would have been twitching, were he not a creature of metal. Instead, he was flexing his hand spasmodically, as he regarded the remains of glorious Mandragora. Priceless, ancient machines that have withstood ages were now piles of slag and cables, destroyed in a senseless civil war.

Their armies, once vast and unstoppable, were reduced to a roughly four warriors. The nobility was a bit better off—there was approximately six of them, all trying to act nonchalant in the face of Imotekh's wrath.

"What have you done?" he wailed.

"He started it," said Sutekh, while pointing at the noble next to him. That one in turn, pointed at the one next to him, causing a very small wave of finger pointing. The four remaining warriors started pointing at one another too.

"Our tomb world," Imotekh howled. "The armies! The devices! All ruined, because you morons had to start a war of succession!"

"Sorry?" the left-most noble said, while the others resumed watching the walls and the ceiling.

"Sorry?" Imotekh roared. "SORRY? YOU CAUSE ALL OF THIS AND YOU ARE SORRY?"

The six nodded. If he had tearducts, Imotekh would have sobbed. Instead, he said weakly, "If anybody asks, I'm watching Orikan's last season.

He felt some quiet satisfaction as he heard three dismayed cries of "You mean he's not real?"

{oOo}


	91. A Happy Occasion

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

The wedding had come as a surprise to the imperial family. Invitations had been sent out with calculated speed so that the majority of them would only barely be able to arrive in time, and had been terse to the point of bluntness: the wedding would take place whether they were there or not.

The invitations hadn't even named the _bride_.

Admittedly, secretiveness was not entirely surprising when coming from Alpharius.

The vast cathedral-like wedding hall was filled with guests from around the galaxy. Perturabo calculated on first entering that at least half were agents of the Alpha Legion in disguise. He had only revised the numbers upwards since that moment and had only been persuaded not to teleport himself and Tekhne back to his flagship when his wife reminded him that with so much of the imperial family in one place the level of security might have some point.

The first ten pews on either side of the aisle were reserved for the imperial family, placements calculated partly on the basis of Legion number and partly on seniority, so Lion El'Jonson and Alta were prominent in the first pew on one side and Serenity and Horus effortlessly dominated the other front pew.

The Emperor had not yet arrived, but a particularly large chair had been set aside from him. He had arrived, among the latest to do so, and had immediately been drawn aside by Alpharius. The rest of the family could only hope firstly that this was in order to meet the bride and that secondly the Emperor would form the desired impression of said bride. Whether the desired impression was favourable or not tended to depend on how fond the individual making the wish was of the youngest Primarch.

The other notable absence (at least among those attending - Guilleman had sent sincere regrets that as he was on the other side of the galaxy he would not be able to arrive until at least a week after the ceremony) was Angron. He was certainly present - his equerry was visible among the other high officers of the World Eaters. Of course, the fact that Kharn was swallowing sedative pills as if they were candy was a touch worrying...

At some unseen signal, the music paused and then segued into a more formal note, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. As those gathered ceased conversations, a side door opened and Alpharius entered, wearing not his armour but a ceremonial uniform in the violet and blue of his Legion. Towering at his side was Angron, wearing a formal white tunic, crimson jacket and a kilt of blue and white tartan. (Thora grabbed her husband's ear just before he was about to unleash a mocking wolf-whistle at the sight of his brother's bare calfs. Whatever she then whispered into his ear had him pale).

When they took positions indicating that Angron was acting as aide (or 'best man' in some traditions) to Alpharius, heads began to turn towards the back of the chamber where the great doors were slowly swinging open.

The Emperor entered, the bride upon his arm. The bride was veiled and wore a long white dress while the Emperor, as majestic as ever, seemed totally unperturbed. Only the more psychically astute - Magnus and Ira for example, could tell his emotions were in tumoil. Horrified disbelief was Magnus' later theory. Ira countered with her own belief that the Emperor was trying not to laugh out loud. Their debate would eventually last all through the night and end, during breakfast, with a negotiated settlement that both theories were probably correct.

Eyes widened as vision keen beyond mortal levels dissected the identity of Alpharius' chosen bride. Reactions varied - Lorgar fainted, Fulgrim tutted disapprovingly and Azmina smugly noted to herself that she'd won a bet with Sanguinius.

The magistrate - a local official visibly emoting utter terror in playing a prominient role in such distinguished company - cleared his throat as the Emperor escorted the bride to the front of the chamber. "If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in matrimony, you are to declare it."

There was a pregnant silence.

A number of the imperial family considered strongly the option of raising objections on various grounds that they were fairly sure would be upheld. For one reason or another, they decided not to.

These reasons were:-

The Emperor was participating, thus at least tacitly approving.

Angron was glaring challengingly at the rest of the room, daring them to object.

Raising an objection would be a terrible, probably irretrivable insult to Alpharius.

For most of them, however, the most driving reason was the tears of happiness and radiated approval of Serenity. The Anima was emoting so much support for the wedding that Alpharius was actually not shooting suspicious glances in her direction, an unprecendented situation.

Lorgar probably would not have been swayed by these factors but he remained unconcious, propped up by Kor Phareon in a pretense that nothing unusual had happened in that pew.

When the silence grew too long (as determined by Angron turning his death glare upon the magistrate and opening his mouth to speak, that unlucky soul spoke swiftly: "Primarch Alpharius of XX Legion, the Alpha Legion, do you take Omegon, also Primarch of the Alpha Legion, to be your spouse...?"

{oOo}


	92. Codex Angron

Author: drakensis

{oOo}

Roboute Guilleman had heard occasional rumours that the World Eaters and their brother chapters were rather dismissive of his Codex Astartes. He simply didn't place any weight in those rumours.

Oh, he was certain Angron was putting his own interpretation upon the work but that was understood and quite expected. Not being an imbecile, Roboute had been careful to leave plenty of cracks in the edifice for individualism to thrive. He was fairly sure that more than three-quarters of the Legions were operating within the expected parameters, if not precisely those he had written of.

He had two reasons for believing that the sons of Angron were faithful, if not enthusiastic adherents to proper doctrine.

Firstly, Angron had apparently committed the entire work to memory within a week of being sent an early draft and had maintained a steady correspondence about it, including many suggestions for 'improvements', two of which Roboute had considered worthy of including in the second edition.

Secondly, Chapters derived from the World Eaters would not infrequently request shipments of several thousand copies of the latest edition to ensure they had an ample stock for study and to provide to Imperial Guard and Planetary Defense Force officers near their areas of responsibility. As a gesture of solidarity between the Astartes, Roboute had ordered these be provided at the expense of the Ultramarines chapter.

He would have been genuinely horrified to discover that occasions when these deliveries were delayed were the only occasions that the World Eaters had to provision themselves with conventional toilet paper.

The VIII Legion probably spent more time handling the Codex Astartes than any other Legion. Reading it, not so much.

{oOo}


	93. Poor Public Relations

{oOo}

In retrospect, asking Angron's advice was a mistake.

"I SEE THE PROBLEM," he boomed when Sanguinius had finished laying out the situation with Nefer. "I CAN TAKE HER IN HAND IF YOU LIKE."

A nasty suspicious voice inside the Blood Angel Primarch's mind (it sounded like Kharn) prompted him to ask: "With the specific goal of..."

"WHEN I'M DONE WITH HER, SHE'LL KNOW HOW TO TEAR A BUILDING APART PROPERLY."

Angron, it appeared, did not see the problem. Sanguinius expanded on his explanation of why Nefer destroying sources of pornography was a bad... was not entirely a good thing.

"I REALLY DON'T SEE WHY IT BOTHERS YOU. MORTARION EXPLAINED THIS PEDO BUSINESS TO ME YEARS AGO AND IT SOUNDS AS IF NEFER HAD THE RIGHT IDEA."

Then he had to deal with three World Eater scouts sneaking aboard the battle barge to provide Nefer with a Flamer and a list of targets.

{oOo}


	94. Inaccuracies

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

The whole mess started roughly two year ago. The high command had gotten into their heads that the Imperial Guard could do with a fresh image that would appeal to the younger generations. After a brain-storming session they finally arrived to the conclusion that a holo-series for children would be just the thing.

Most suspected it had something to do with the fact that the Lord General had a thing for a young cartoonist. It certainly didn't help that said cartoonist had been among the hired chosen. Her work had been mediocre at best, but netted her a few dinners with the Lord General, before she was cast aside for an exotic dancer.

However, this was only prelude to the difficulties that befall the all-female Cadian 1006th Regiment and their Commissar, one Tiberius Kirkley. The same studio that hired the Lord General's ex-girlfriend, had also hired a certain reclusive young man, known under the pseudonym Kemas. His works targeted mostly frustrated teenage boys and apparently the idea of an all-female regiment with only one male in sight had fueled the elusive Kemas to produce another series.

The fact that he neglected to even ask the regiment in question had clearly not bothered him in presenting Colonel Valeria as a feisty and temperamental creature, who nevertheless harbored hopes of marrying and bringing up a score of children (when the Colonel actually was married and had a son back on Cadia) or in assuming that the senior Techpriestess—Luecelle-wasn't simply uninterested in organic things like other people and presenting her as harboring a deeply hidden warm core.

Then there was of course Tiberius himself, who was definitely not meant to be a hero of such a series…

{oOo}

Colonel Mira Valeria eyed Commissar Tiberius. The man's eyes was twitching so hard, she was starting to worry his eyelid was going to fly away soon. Mira glanced at the holo.

There was a bright picture of a group of busty women, one of which looked a bit like Mira, if you squinted enough. She was far better endowed, her uniform looked more like cocktail dress and showed far too much body. Oh, and she only had one thin scar accross her eye, when Mira was missing the eye and half her face was covered by metal.

Was that... thing in the corner Luecelle? She supposed it had to be, given the fact it was wearing red robes or at least a few red scraps. Still Luecelle had only one mechandrite and it certainly didn't end in that.

In the middle, there was a man in the uniform of a Commissar. He appeared to look rather close to panic (possibly, because the amount of bodies pressing on him should have long ago strangled him).

"I can shoot you?" Mira suggested after a moment.

The Commissar twitched a few more times, before groaning. "But I'm gay!"

{oOo}


	95. He Isn't Real?

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

Imotehk the Stormlord would have twitched, had he still had facial musculature. Instead, he directed his gaze at one of the lesser lords and remained silent for a full minute.

Then, in a tone of horrified fascination, he asked, "They are guarding the what?"

"The Celestial Orrery, m'lord," the luckless noble replied, wringing his metal hands nervously. "You recall? The glorious artifact that allows us to destroy stars by merely extinguishing their light on the representation of the galaxy?"

Somehow, despite having no mimic to speak of, Imotekh managed to convey exasperation and hopelessness at once.

"The Celestial Orrery," he said in the tones of a scholar. "An artifact that appeared in only one episode of Orikan the Diviner. Third generation, sixth season, episode fifteen, The Doom of Stars. It was also destroyed in the very same episode, by the treacherous spy of the Old Ones. The court of Thanaots had built a replica—without any magical powers, mind you."

Silence descended as the lesser lord contemplated the words. Finally, he let out an anguished cry of: "You mean Orkian isn't real?!"

Imotehk hid his face in his palm.

{oOo}


	96. Power of the Media

Author: Bloody Mary

{oOo}

"_My agent saw her,_" a seductive voice whispered.

"**ANd**

PInk buTterflies

_siNGing abOuT sQuaTs,_" another grumbled.

"**I TOLD YOU, YOU SHOULD LET ME HANDLE THAT,**" growled a third.

"Now, now, Khorne," a fourth speaker joined, this one sounding like a jolly grandfather (dying of several terminal diseases), "it's unfair to hold a grudge over the foibles of others. Slaanesh is still so young... "

"_Oh, and how would you do it?_" the first voice hissed. "_Drip puss on people until they tell you?"_

The second speaker sighed heavily, before saying, in a resigned tone:

"ToO lAte.

**ShE IS** _BaCk on tERra._"

There was a moment of confused silence and the speaker supplied, "It waS **on tHe nEwS.**"

{oOo}


End file.
